Sparkle In Your Eyes
a Valentine's Day fic by Juuchan17
(Note: Special thanks goes to Kelev for the idea of adding two certain characters to the plot! Thanks so much! - Enjoy! Juuchan17)
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Part
II: Any Suggestions?
The sun
fell, giving rise to the moon and the stars of the midnight sky. Again, the
sunshine gave way to the dawn, followed by the lunar sphere twelve hours later.
A couple of
days had passed since he and Jenna had made plans to exchange gifts on the “Day
of Love,” Valentine’s Day. Balto remained on his boat, his dull-teal blanket
covering over his sleeping head . . . although he wasn’t really asleep once the
sun’s rays began to lap against his fur and the fabric.
It’s
been two days so far – less than five to go, Balto thought as he flipped over to his stomach,
losing the blanket on his head and letting out a sigh. Over the past two
years, you’d think I’d know more about her preferences of what she likes by now
. . .
A waddling
white fowl approached the waking mutt, stopping in front of his face and
leaning to Balto’s eye-level before talking. “Good morning, Balto,” he greeted
him with a Russian-like accent and a small friendly wave. “Ah, you look troubled
again.”
Balto’s
head rose at the sound of his guardian. “Boris, nothing’s troubling me this
time.”
“Are you
sure?” Boris crossed his wings in front of his chest. “Remember last time you
said nothing was wrong, you were being haunted by dream of raven and wolves
almost two years ago.”
I
remember that,Balto thought with a small huff. Boris had talked with him by the totem pole about
it the same day Jenna gave birth to their pups. That began a big adventure
about the importance of dreams and that stuff, . . . but that’s not the point
this time.
“Well if
you were wondering, I’m not having nightmares and dreams this time,” Balto
clarified. “It’s about Jenna.”
“What about
Jenna?” the gander asked, not realizing that two moving piles of white fur were
sneaking their way closer to them both. He gasped at a sudden thought. “Oh no –
the stork didn’t land again, did it?” He placed a wing slightly over his eyes,
shaking it from side to side. “Oy! Babysitting Aleu for almost a year was
enough for me; I don’t think I could handle another bunch of pups using my body
like a chew toy again!”
Balto
lifted his head up and laughed, easily amused by the comment. “No, no, Boris.
It’s not about that.” Although I would love to be a father again, he
silently added to his own response. “You know a lot about humans, right?”
“Ah, I am
like traveling dictionary when it comes to humans,” Boris boasted, sticking his
chest slightly out. “but I’m not perfect on certain things that they do.”
Before
Balto could begin to ask his question about that strange holiday he was just
introduced to, the two white ninjas of fluff bounded over the wooden railing of
the boat with a whooping cry, landing on top of the snow goose.
“Ack—!” was
all the gander could manage to say as the larger of the creatures – with the
smaller one sitting on his shoulders – sat atop of him, silencing him for the
time being.
“Uncle
Boris!” The smaller of the two creatures lifted his head up, shouting with glee
and a large smile underneath his black nose. “Uncle Boris, we’ve found you!” He
chuckled a bit before continuing to speak in a slight British accent. “Luk
tagged you, so that means you’re it! Hooray!” His short arms lifted up in the
air, as if to show their victory in the game that they were playing.
The larger
bear with a pale pink nose laughed softly, still sitting on the head of the
goose. Boris was trying to tell the two bears to get off of him, but the
muffled noise wasn’t exactly something they could comprehend. It was up to the
wolf-dog to set things right, although he thought their close bonding was
rather sweet. Boris was all those two had before he had come along, and even
the idea of taking in two orphaned polar bear brothers seemed ridiculous to
many animals nearby, but the Russian gander didn’t care.
He
really does love those guys, Balto thought with a small smile and a sigh to match. Although
it’s not easy for him to show it that often.
“Muk . . .
Luk . . .” He told them slowly and clearly, so to get their complete attention.
“Could you not sit on Uncle Boris’s head? He needs to breathe too.”
The smaller
bear, Muk, looked down and gasped in horror. “Oh no!” Leaping off of his
brother’s back, he allowed Luk to step backwards and give their “Uncle Boris” a
chance to catch his breath. The gander gasped once the bear bottom was off of
him, and in a sign of apology, the brothers leaned Boris against their fur,
petting his shoulders.
“Sorry,
Uncle Boris,” Muk apologized in a quiet voice. Luk mumbled a couple of noises
to show he was sorry. Unlike his smaller brother, Luk couldn’t speak as well,
but Muk was able to easily translate the noises that the large bear cub made
into plain English. “Luk says he’s sorry too. We were just playing a game of
tag, that’s all.”
“I think
you just have to touch the person that’s it, not crush them,” Boris was able to
comment, advising the two bears. “But next time, play carefully, okay?”
“Okay.
We’ll be careful from now on,” Muk promised. Luk made a muffled noise as he
bobbed his head in a swift motion.
“Now, run along
and play now, all right?” Boris sent them away. “Balto and I are in the middle
of a discussion.” He turned to the gray-brown wolf-dog and smiled back at the
bears. “We’ll be down to join you for something, I guess . . . okay?”
With a
quick nod, the two bears vanished over the railing and laughed as the sounds of
pure happiness and tossed snowballs hitting and missing their targets filled
the air.
Balto let
out a laugh. “It sounds like they’re enjoying the recent snowfall, huh?”
“Yeah,”
Boris replied. “Now, what did you want to ask be about, Balto? Something about
Jenna?”
“Well, it’s
about Jenna, but it’s also about humans,” Balto explained, beginning to ask his
question. “Have you heard of a holiday called Valentine’s Day? Some day on the
14th of February?”
The gander
placed a wing on his chin, thinking and muttering to himself. “Hmm, Valentine’s
Day . . . Valentine’s Day . . .” He stroked his feathered jaw for a couple of
seconds before lifting a feathered finger in the air. “Ah-ha! I have heard about
this before . . . I do believe it’s a holiday that humans celebrate to show their
mates how much they love each other.”
“I know
that already, Boris,” Balto collapsed
back onto the wooden planked floor, resting his head on his front legs. “Jenna
told me all about it, but that’s not the problem.” He sighed. “The local dogs
are having a celebration in less than five days for Valentine’s Day, and the
two of us promised to exchange gifts. The problem is that . . . I don’t know
what to give her.”
“But Balto,
you and Jenna have been together for a couple of years!” Boris reminded him. “I
have seen the two of you together, and I can feel the deep bond that you both
share.”
Balto was
able to smile at the comment. Well, I do love her, and Boris has been through
those first days with me, so he knows, he thought as Boris continued.
“Let me
tell you a quick story, Balto. Back in Mother Russia, I remember my mother
mentioning how young geese sing to one another in order to find their life
partners. I remember asking her why we had to do that, and she told me,
‘Boris-dear, that is what we geese do. Only the one that answers your own
unique call will be the one that is destined for you and you alone.’
“’But how
will I know that?’ I asked her. ‘I can’t even sing well!’ But Mama reassured me
with this: ‘It doesn’t matter whether your song is perfect or not; the one
meant for you will accept it regardless. It’s a love song that only you two
will understand.’”
“So, what exactly
are you suggesting?” Balto tilted his head in confusion. “Although you raised
me since I was orphaned as a pup, I still can’t honk like a goose, you know.”
“I already
know that, Balto, but I was suggesting that maybe you serenade Jenna with a
love song,” Boris finally stated. “Use the voices of the angels to prove your
love to your beloved and let all bear witness of your everlasting love for each
other!”
“Me? Sing?”
Balto was taken aback by the idea. He sat up and turned his head. “No way!” His
voice began to stammer as he continued. “I-I-I . . . You know I can’t sing,
Boris! It’s i-i-impossible for me to do that!”
Especially in public, Balto added silently. I’ve just gotten on the good side of most of
the local dogs here; if I sang to Jenna in front of everyone, . . . they’d
think I was crazy.
Boris
sighed. “So what, you can’t sing . . . but you can howl, yes?”
The
wolf-dog laughed, still shocked by the ideas that he was hearing. “Of course I
can howl, Boris . . . but it’s not exactly romantic. Maybe between two wolves,
but not to a husky.”
“A poem,
perhaps?” Boris suggested. “It’s like a song, sans the music and all.”
“I don’t
think so,” Balto shook his head.
“Well, I
don’t know what else to say, Balto,” Boris seemed to be out of ideas as he
sighed again.
The hybrid
stood up, stretching out as he let out a long yawn, and began to walk towards the
wooden railing that pointed towards Nome and the totem pole that stood proudly
as a halfway marker. “Thanks anyway, Boris.” Balto told him bluntly as he leapt
over the rail and landed on the sand below. “I’m going for a walk into town. Maybe
I’ll find something while I’m there.” He began to walk away, not noticing that
Boris was still murmuring to him.
“But if she
really loves you, . . . no matter what you give to her, you will still make her
happy.”
The dirt
path to Nome was slightly dusted with snow from days ago, but it felt quite
soft, mushy and a bit cold against the pads of the wolf-dog’s feet. Snow in
the mountains was nothing like this, Balto reminisced as he approached the
wooden Inuit decoration. It was much thicker the higher up I went, but this
snow is much better for racing. He sighed as a soft wind stroked against
his back fur. He could see the faded white paint of the totem pole’s bottom
link – the wolf – and only one thought came into his mind.
Mother .
. . The vision of
the white wolf spirit that had guided him and his daughter into the wild only a
few months ago was still chiseled into his mind. He had yet to tell Jenna about
his mother, Aniu, and the fact that now she was a Great Spirit to all wolves of
the nearby area. I’ll tell her when she’s ready to know it . . . I’m sure
she’ll understand, although I don’t understand it all myself.
Passing by
the totem pole, he ran into the snow-slushed streets of Nome where local
townspeople and their beloved working dogs and pets mingled on the sides of the
streets. He walked on the side of street, near the planked porches of the
markets and local general stores that were awaiting the mid-day business rush.
This is
still strange to me,Balto thought as he smiled at a couple of kids – a boy and a girl – that ran
over to him, calling his name with glee. They rubbed his fur gently and yet
without fear with their mitten-covered hands, calling him names like “hero” and
“good dog,” which he never would have thought any human would ever say to him. But
I guess the praise that these kids are giving me makes it all worth it.Their giggles and joyous laughter reminded him that these kids may not be here
if it wasn’t for him, and that made him lick them on the cheeks as a friendly
gesture.
However,
the trench-coated mother of one of the children gasped dramatically loud as saw
the sight, and in protection of her daughter, she grabbed her arm, pulling the
kid away from the hometown hero. “Stay away, wolf!” She yelled at the innocent
mutt, kicking some mushy snow-slush in his direction. “I won’t let you take my
child as your prey!” She huffed, leading the girl away from the wolf-dog in a
heat of anger.
I guess
some people will never change, Balto thought as he hung his head. The little boy had left
him too, running back to his parents and leaving the town hero alone. I am
still a wild animal to some people . . . and apparently there are humans that
will continue to be ignorant of those that are different . . . He let out a
sigh, lowering his ears in shame of his kind actions.
The boy
tugged on his father’s sleeve, pointing at the gray-brown dog that he had left
behind. “Papa, Papa . . . why do some people not like that doggie over there?”
He asked curiously. “Balto’s a nice dog. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s
right, son,” The boy’s father reassured him in a kind voice. “Balto is a nice
dog – a very good dog. He’s a one-of-a-kind dog who saved many people two years
ago, but some people just don’t like him because he is half-wolf.”
“I don’t care
what his breed is; I like him anyway,” the little boy told his father as they
began to walk away. “Bye-bye, Balto!” The child’s farewell smile was faced
towards the proud wolf-dog who had pricked up his ears and grinned happily back
at the child.
Nice
kid, Balto
commented to himself. I’m glad to see not
all humans are taught to hate; At least many of them changed once I returned
with the serum, but it’s good to be judged by actions of bravery and courage
instead of early judgment and fear. With that thought in mind, the hybrid
walked deeper into town, hoping to find some inspiration for a Valentine’s Day
gift for Jenna.
All day he
traveled around the town, hoping that the perfect gift lay just around the
corner, but it was with no avail; Balto just couldn’t find anything that he
thought Jenna would like.
Well, she did say something about
treats, he told
himself earlier. Maybe there’s a special
food that she likes . . . Once he arrived at the general store in the
middle of town, he looked inside the store through a window, only to quickly
sigh as he walked away. Nah, that’s too
common. Jenna deserves something better than a snack. I love her much more than
that. Just the thought of an unhappy Jenna shunning him because of a bad
thoughtless gift made him shudder.
I just don’t want to make her unhappy of my gift,Balto’s head fell as night began to fall and he made his way back to the outskirts where Boris and the bears waited for him. He didn’t say much that night as he went doing his normal routine before covering himself into his slightly warm blanket and going to sleep. Not even Boris asked him about his search of a gift.
The next
day was quiet and boring as the sun rose over the long wooden watercraft.
Balto, although he didn’t want to sleep in that day, still had his beloved
blanket over most of his body, mainly over his head.
It was near
mid-day by the time Boris, who had been up with the sun, began to waddle over
to the snoring form of the one that he had cared for almost like a child,
paused, and leaned backwards to take in a deep breath.
“WAKE UP,
BALTO!” The gander honked loudly into Balto’s covered ears like a piercing
siren. From the nearby forest, a large flock of birds flew upward from their
respective tree-top perches, scattering throughout the mid-winter sky.
The
wolf-dog’s head lifted up, still cloaked by the blanket, but he was slightly
deafened by the alarm. After shaking off the fabric, a gasping Balto emerged,
trying to catch his breath and recover from the instant shock.
“Boris, . .
. what are you doing?” Balto asked him once he caught his breath.
“You should
be looking for that gift for Jenna,” Boris scolded him with a swinging finger
in the air. “not sleeping the day away. It’s almost noon already!”
“I know,”
Balto yawned, stretching his legs as if to get up, but he remained stretched
out on the ground lazily. “but I still can’t seem to find the right thing for
her.” He rolled over onto his back with a groan. “I just don’t know what girls
really like.” He turned to Boris. “What do you think? Do you know what the most
beautiful husky in the world would love to have?”
Boris
placed his wing under his chin, deep in thought. “Balto, I already gave you a
suggestion, remember?” The gander reminded him. “Give Jenna a piece of your heart
– sing to her everything that she means to you!”
“I told
you, I can’t sing,” Balto moaned. “Jenna would only make fun of me for sounding
silly.” He let out a deep sigh. “Can you think of anything else that she would
like? Something other than singing?”
“Well, I —”
The gander’s comment was interrupted by a howl, one that didn’t sound wild like
a wolf’s but more tame like a husky’s.
Balto’s
ears pricked up, twitching towards the noise as another howl – similar but
slightly different in pitch – joined with the other. The wolf-dog smiled,
recognizing the voices. “Hey, I recognize those howls!” He ran to the wooden
railing, placing his front paws on the rail towards the totem pole and looked
out to confirm his thoughts. “It’s Yukon and Denali!” He returned the howl,
singing deep and loud as if his wild heritage had stirred up within him once
more.
The gander
only shook his head with a feathered palm on his brow. “That boy’s got to pay
attention to what’s really important to Jenna . . .” Boris sighed as he moved
to the other side of the boat where his mop and pail awaited him.
Two red and
white huskies were howling as they ran down the mushy dirt and grass path,
kicking up soil with their paws. One of them was a bright red-burgundy,
streaked with white markings on its face, mainly around the dog’s blue eyes. A
red streak split its white face in two, like a blaze. The rest of its white
markings were down its chest and belly, on its legs and under its tail. The
other husky was much darker shade of burgundy than the first, and its markings
were much different than the other as well. Its face was only marked with white
around its muzzle, giving its soft brown eyes a bit of focus. Its chest, belly,
under-tail and lower legs were also marked with white.
“Dad! Dad!”
The blazed husky – a female – barked as she and her companion began to slow to
a trot once their paws hit the sand.
“Hey there,
Dad!” The darker one spoke in a masculine tone, one similar to Balto’s. “How
are you lately?”
Balto
leaped down to the sand, greeting his children with friendly nuzzles. “I’ve
been doing great, Denali,” First, he nuzzled his son, the darker Denali, before
turning to do the same to his daughter Yukon. “and I know that you and your
sister have been doing good as well.”
“Yeah, Den-Den
and I have been busy lately with the racing team,” Yukon commented. “With a big
race coming up next week, the musher’s got us training almost daily.”
“So why are
you not in the harness today?” Balto asked. “If the race is so important, why
isn’t the team training hard today?”
“Mr. Nelson
felt that we deserved a break for the entire day today,” Denali stepped up to
answer. “He’s a great musher – maybe one day we can get him to put you on our
team for a big race one day, eh, Dad?” He lightly nudged his gray-brown
patriarch with his shoulder.
“Nah,”
Balto chuckled, soon finishing up with a sigh. “You’ve got already got a great
lead dog in Yukon here. I don’t want to slow you guys down with my old age.”
“Oh, stop,
Dad!” Yukon turned her head to the side, nearly blushing thanks to her father’s
bragging. “I may have survived the test run as a lead dog last month, but
you’re the one that passed your sled-dog genes to all of us.”
“She’s
right, Dad,” Denali added on to his sister’s comment. “Both you and Mom gave us
that, but it was you that also gave us that sense of wildness that makes us
different from the other huskies.”
Balto immediately
knew they were talking about his wolf genes, the ones that their eldest sister
had once despised before finally accepting them. I’m glad they’ve understood their recessive wolf within, the proud
father thought with a grin. And she
accepted it as well once she learned about my imperfect breeding . . .
“Say, you
two,” Balto called his children’s attention with a quick bark. “You’ve been
around your mother in town as pups – what does she like?” The two dogs tilted
their heads in confusion, telling the curious father to rephrase the question.
“I mean, what things make her happy?” He lowered his head and ears in
admission. “She and I promised to exchange gifts for the Valentine’s Day
celebration in a couple of days, and I . . . I have yet to find the right
present to show how much she means to me.”
The two
husky siblings paused for a few moments, lifting their heads deep in thought.
After some time, one of them answered their father’s query.
“Well, I
remember when we were little, Mom enjoyed singing us lullabies and other songs
as we fell asleep,” Denali replied. “Once we were resting, she would hum the
tune until she herself was asleep.” He gave a wink. “I used to pretend to be
asleep – that’s how I learned about that.”
“Yeah, Mom
always said that nothing cheered her up more than hearing a beautiful song,”
Yukon added. “We sang her a little song for her birthday last year, and she
told us it was the most wonderful thing that we could give her . . .” She
smiled, letting out a little giggle. “. . . even though Aleu tried to steal the
spotlight with her howling near the end.”
“Oh, I
remember that. She’s just more in tune with her wolf nature, that’s all,” Balto
joined the laughter as the three of them had a nice laugh. Once they were
finished, the wolf-dog invited them on deck. “Say, why don’t we finish this
conversation out of this sun, huh? I’m sure Boris and the bears won’t mind.”
“That
sounds great,” Denali barked, quickly using his powerful hind legs to bounce
him up onto the railing. “Ah, and the view’s just amazing from up here!”
“I thought
you enjoyed the view from below, Brother dear!” Yukon joked, laughing as she
leapt up and tackled her darker brother, causing him to become flattened
between the prideful female and the wooden deck floor. “How’s this view for
ya?” She giggled as he pushed her off of him.
“Not
exactly what I would call enjoyable,” Denali replied back as he chased after
his sister. The two of them began to play-fight and laugh on the deck of the
boat.
Balto only
chuckled at the sight. “Ah, kids . . .” He was about to leap onto the deck
himself, but a loud squawk and a flurry of feathers made him know what to do.
“I think Boris can handle those two for now.” He began to walk away with
another chuckle, heading for a nearby mountain to think alone. “Maybe I’ll come
back after they settle down and I get some time to figure out something that’s
better than me singing to her.”
It took the
quadruped about ten minutes to reach the foot of the mountain where he had
liked watching the sun setting. He let out a frustrated yet soft sigh before
beginning to scale the mount, traveling up the sturdy stone path up to the
flattened ledge of the high summit.
I have to give her something that
will stand out from all the rest, Balto thought as he paced himself up the pathway. Something that will make her feel like the
luckiest girl in Nome . . . no, the world! . . . but what else is out there
that Jenna would like? He allowed his mind to ponder on the subject of
Jenna and his unknown Valentine’s Day gift to her as he placed one large beige
paw in front of the other, carefully scaling the massive rock formation like he
had done many times before in his life.
After the
ten minute climb, Balto looked out from the ledge of the mountain’s peak,
peering out at the beauty and majesty of the Alaskan wilderness around and
below him. The sun was high above him, heating his back fur with its soft rays.
He turned to his right and looked out at the tiny town that was about a mile or
so away from his present position.
Nome is so . . . so small from up
here, Balto
commented on his current surroundings. Everything
is just . . . absolutely stunning when you look down at the world around here.
Oh, this view would probably take her breath away if I brought Jenna up to see
it. The inner joy that he suddenly began to feel deep within him made him
cry out with a loud wail that seemed to echo against the rocky facades of the
nearby mountains.
Yes, this will be a great gift to
show how much I love her . . . I’ll show her the world . . .
Within an
hour, Balto returned from his private mountain trek and leapt over the wooden
rail of his boat home. He smiled sweetly and tiptoed quietly past the sleeping
forms of his son and daughter sleeping with a very tuckered-out Boris lying
against Yukon’s side.
Good, they’re sleeping, Balto thought with relief. I guess all that rough-housing and playing
wore them out to exhaustion. Now even he began to let out a long yawn. Maybe I should get a nap in myself. I can
start to sleep better now that I’ve figured out a great present for Jenna.
He let out
a stretch on the deck, lowered his body on the stern area of the boat, and let
his eyes close for a comforting siesta underneath the early afternoon sun. The
wolf-dog had no idea how long he was going to rest, but he had a feeling that
he didn’t have to worry about much anymore.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Surprisingly,
Balto didn’t wake up until the next morning. He felt so relaxed and comfortable
the previous afternoon that he had forgotten to wake up to wish Yukon and
Denali good luck on their upcoming race and the strenuous training that they
had to endure during the rest of the week.
“Oy,
Balto!” The voice of Boris woke him up suddenly that morning. “Wake up, boychik! It’s morning!”
The hybrid
did his daily stretch of his legs and let out a long, loud yawn before standing
and greeting the gander with a goofy grin. “Good morning, Boris. Sorry I didn’t
get to say goodbye to the kids.”
“Yeah, but
it’s all fine,” Boris replied. “They left before the sunset to head back to
their master’s house, but they wanted me to tell you that they hope that you
find the right Valentine’s Day gift for Jenna.”
Still the
half-wolf was all smiles. “Oh, I have, Boris. I took a little walk while you
were babysitting those two . . . and I figured out the most wonderful thing to
give her.”
“What is
it?” Boris asked curiously.
Balto
walked over to the back of the grounded boat and lifted the front half of his
body up onto the railing. His nose was pointed towards the nearby mountains
near of the tiny Alaskan town. “There. I’m going to show her that for
Valentine’s Day.”
“Mountains?”
Boris scratched his head with a wing. “How can you give her mountains as a
present?”
Balto
chuckled and shook his head. “No, no – I’m not giving her mountains, I’m going
to take Jenna up to the top of my favorite peak.” He stepped down from the rail
and lowered his muzzle bashfully. His cheeks were speckled pink as he smiled
with joy. “It’s so wonderful up there . . . and oh, the view . . .” He sighed
deeply, tossing his head back like a love-struck young lad. “I know she’s going
to love being there with me.”
The gander
sighed, realizing his own stupidity with his words. “Oh, that’s what you meant.
I see now . . .” He waddled up to the stern of the ship, looking out at the
peaks. “I’m sure she’d like that.”
“Yeah,”
Balto collapsed to the floor, completely out of it. “I don’t think Jenna’s been
able to travel so far out since she hurt her leg two years ago, so this would
be a great way for her to get away from the confined life of Nome.” He blushed
again. “She deserves to see freedom a bit too. All dogs should get that chance
to experience this at least a few times in their lives.”
“True,
true,” The snow goose nodded his head with a bob. “You are still feeling that
wild animal in you, eh?” He let out a chuckle.
“I guess I
am, Boris,” the half-wolf sighed, still smiling. “but that’s just how much I
love her.”
“And that’s
it? You’re just going to hope that a view of her house from a mountaintop with
sweep Jenna off her feet?” Boris nagged. It was strange that he sounded so
upset about an idea that he had just said was wonderful, and this truly took
Balto aback with a surprise with a now-lifted head. “She might think it’s okay,
but how much do you really love her,
Balto?”
The
gray-brown hybrid lowered his ears at the rough comment to his relationship
with the one he loved. Actually, he was too speechless to reply, but his mind
raced with thoughts.
I do love her . . . Jenna’s the only
dog I will ever love,Balto spoke to his racing heart. I
thought I knew what would be a great gift for her, but . . . Boris is starting
to think otherwise . . . I’m so confused by all of this!
Oh, what should I do now?
The sigh of
the Russian gander brought Balto back to his senses as he also felt the soft
touch of his feathered palm rub his shoulder in a sign of comfort. “Oh, Balto –
you worry too much.”
Maybe I do . . . but not even I can
figure out how to show Jenna how much she means to me . . . The wolf-dog didn’t feel like
speaking aloud at the moment as he began to rise to his feet, his confidence in
himself gone.
“Balto . .
. Balto!” Boris’s honked call rang in his ears as he watched the wolf-dog cross
the wooden beam that took him from the boat’s deck to the ground and in a
sprint, he ran towards Nome without looking backwards.
“Oh, Balto,”
Boris sighed, sitting down on the wooden floor. “Maybe you do love her more
than I really know, . . .” He sighed again, now falling backwards and spreading
out his wings against the deck. “ . . . but I’m sure this is the right thing
for you to do. If Jenna means so much to you, only you can discover what you
must do now.”
Once his
paws entered the dirt and slush of Nome, he could hear the hustle and bustle of
the mid-morning rush, listening to the barks and howls of his fellow sled dogs
hitched to their respective sled-runners. People were moving about Main Street
as they usually did, spending quality
time with their families by walking the wooden sidewalks all bundled in their
coats and mittens to keep warm from the mid-winter chill in the air. He saw a
couple of sled team – both with his own children in the harness – traveling back
and forth through the snowy street, heading out to get their busy work done by
the end of daylight. The town dogs that weren’t of the sledding quality were
also out for the day, sitting and loitering near the General Store and the
Boiler Room, the main hangout of all the gossiping canines.
Hmm, Balto stopped to think for a moment
as the Boiler Room came in sight. I remember
that Jenna was friends with some of the gossipers before she met me. I wonder .
. . maybe they can help me on my personal quest. Why didn’t I think of this
idea before? With a brave sigh, the wolf-dog scampered forward towards the
wooden building in the far end of town near the sea.
This early
in the morning, not very many dogs were inside lounging around the warmth of
the heated boiler, but the gray-brown Balto did happen to recognize two females
that he knew only because they were once acquaintances of his mate.
One of them
was a light beige Afghan Hound with brown markings around her head, the tips of
her long droopy ears and her ankles. Her long tail covered her slender hind
legs from the bitter winds of winter. Her russet eyelids were low, lined against
her dark pupils with long, dark eyelashes, but her gaze was towards her much
smaller friend beside her. The other dog was a lavender-gray Pomeranian with
white fur lining her chest, halfway down her belly and covering the top of her
head. Around her neck remained that vintage purple collar with a heart in the
center of it, for once her heart had longed to be with Balto’s purebred rival,
Steele; however, after Steele spun a tale of the team succumbing to the
wilderness when they were sent to save the sick children two years ago and then
he was proved to be false once Balto’s howling cry filled the night air
throughout the town, she began to despise the black and white Malamute with a
passion.
That must be them, Balto thought. I remember catching a glimpse of them a few times before Jenna and I
became mates. Jenna hadn’t told him much about those two, except that their
names were Dixie and Sylvie. But which is
which? I can’t really tell . . . she didn’t tell me that part.
After a
small cough to clear his throat, Balto approached the two females with a little
bit of nervousness in his voice. “Um, hi . . .”
The much
larger of the two – the Afghan – turned her long-muzzled head toward him, taking
a good, long look the half-wolf’s physique for herself. “Well, well . . . no
wonder Jenna took a liking to you, Balto,” she spoke with a low, feminine yet
nasally voice. “I’m surprised that Dixie here” – she nudged the toy dog breed
as she said this – “didn’t start hitting on you once she dumped Steele that
night you saved the town.”
Dixie only
giggled before replying to Sylvie’s sentence. “Sorry, but I knew better to take
another girl’s mate, Sylvie.” Her voice was high and snooty, which were a
pretty good match for how the spoiled canine was. “I may be a feisty gossiping
pup with high lineage, but I’m definitely not a tramp. I know when a good dog’s
heart belongs elsewhere.” She turned to Balto, smiling amorously at him and
batting her eyes.
Balto took
a gulp at the tiny female’s flirtatious gestures, quickly changing to a dopey
grin as he sat down in front of them. “I know that you two know Jenna pretty
well, right?”
“Of course
we do,” Dixie spoke up, her true-blue eyes gleaming. “We’ve known her since she
was adopted by her human. You could say the three of us were as close as siblings
despite our different breeds.”
“Yeah,
those were the good old days,” Sylvie began to reminisce, leaning her head back
as if she were trying to remember those years ago. “We loved to sing harmonies
in here to any dog that would listen . . . ah, and Jenna, she had this soothing
soprano tone at times . . . but she mostly had such a wide range that she could
switch from a mellow bass to a shrill alto like . . . pure magic.” She sighed, taking a
relaxing breath before returning her gaze back to the wolf-dog. “Tell me, Balto
– have you ever had the pleasure to hear Jenna sing?”
Oh no – not the singing topic again, Balto groaned lightly before
answering her. I thought I was able to
get away from this topic . . . “No. No, I haven’t, Sylvie.” He tried to
fake a convincing grin. “I bet it sounds beautiful.”
“Oh, it
does, Balto!” Dixie yapped. “She made the rest of us sound so inferior when she
left our group to be with you, but music remains one of our guilty pleasures.
It’s like our close bond to each other.”
“You should
ask her to sing for you or something,” The Afghan Hound suddenly gasped,
remembering something. “Hey, wait a minute – Valentine’s Day is a couple of
days from today, and I’m sure Jenna’s told you about the big fête we dogs are
having, right?” Balto nodded, although he really didn’t understand the term
that she used to describe the planned celebration. Dixie and Sylvie – as was
Jenna – were well-bred and taught many proper mannerisms, so it was natural for
them to have a higher vocabulary than his own; thankfully, the mutt could
easily accept that. “Well, she and the two of us are singing a little bit that
night before we mingle with the crowd; maybe you can get there a little early
to take in a quick listen, okay?”
Again Balto
nodded. “Thanks; I’ll be sure to do that.” As he turned to walk away, he could
hear the yapping farewells of his newfound fans.
“See ya
later, Balto!” Dixie was bouncing up and down as if her encounter with the hero
of Nome had given her a sudden adrenaline rush. “Come by and see us more often,
okay?”
“I’ll try,
Dixie,” The wolf-dog smiled back, trying to be graciously nice and courteous. “Just
don’t tell Jenna I was here, okay?”
“Don’t
worry, dear,” Sylvie replied as she
noticed the hybrid mutt’s departure from the doorway. “We’ll always be waiting
. . . and you can trust us. A friend of Jenna’s is a definite friend of ours.”
Once Balto
passed through the wooden door of the Boiler Room, he began to reply to the
Afghan’s comment with a howl as his large paws sprinted across the slush of the
town streets until he made his way to the clear stretch of dirt path that led
to the totem pole and the relics of grounded boats that lined the sandy
shoreline. He slowed down to catch his breath, lowering his head to the ground
as he stopped in front of back of the wooden artifact of Inuit culture. Balto
looked upwards; he could see the top of the pole – the symbol of a painted
raven – turned away from him against the brightness of nearly-high sun that the
carving blocked.
Balto let
out a heavy sigh. “Even you’ve turned your back on me, Mother.” His head
collapsed towards the ground, not noticing the light wisps of white mist that
had begun to form around his paws because of his closed eyes. “How can I give Jenna
the perfect gift when no one has given me any other suggestions yet? Everyone
has been saying I should sing . . . but I just can’t . . .” Tears dripped from
his tightly-shut eyes, landing on the ground by his paws. “. . . I don’t know
what else to do . . .”
As he cried,
the fog began to swirl beside him, forming the figure of a lupine creature that
was a little bit larger than himself. The mist grew lighter as the wolf took on
a natural look – white fur, large clawed paws, flowing thick tail, and those
almond-shaped eyes of piercing yellow and amber. It looked at the pathetic
half-wolf with a sense of sympathy, although it didn’t show its emotions on its
face.
“You
already know what path you must take, my Son . . .”
The gentle
touch of the white muzzle against his skin and the familiar, warm voice of one
that could keep him safe made Balto sniffle and open his eyes, gasping in
silent surprise by the wolf’s appearance beside him.
“M . . .
Mother . . .?” was all he could mutter out at the time. His surprise was
natural, for the two of them had not seen each other for several months; the
last time they had met was once his daughter Aleu had accepted her fate of
joining the wolf Clan as their new Alpha . . . and that day, Balto learned that
the Great Wolf Spirit Aniu, the white wolf, was his mother . . . guiding him
via his dreams to his daughter’s destiny.
“You did call
for me, am I correct?” Aniu murmured, her black-tipped ears twitched.
“Yeah, I
did . . .” Balto’s ears fell to the sides of his neck. “But what do you mean by
. . .”
By the time
he began to look up, his query was left incomplete as the mist surrounded him
and the white wolf. “You have loyal, trusting friends, my Son . . . You must learn
to follow your heart and listen to the song that guides you from within . . .”
“Follow . .
. my heart?” Balto repeated, still unsure of what his spiritual dam meant by
the words. “I . . . I don’t understand, Mother . . .”
However,
the wolf spirit only faded into the mist, causing it to disappear. “Learn to
listen to your heart’s song . . . Hear what it tells you, and you will
understand . . .” Only Aniu’s low voice could be heard around the half-wolf as
Balto’s ears pricked up in confusion.
“Mother? .
. . Mother, where are you?” Balto barked, sniffing the totem pole for some sort
of a sign that the white wolf’s presence was still lingering around him, but it
was no use. The spirit’s scent had disappeared along with her form as the mist
cleared from sight.
Again, it’s
like no one else was here, the wolf-dog muttered to himself with a sigh. He was
all alone again He began to walk away from the pole and back towards his home
where he knew Boris would be waiting for him. Boris wouldn’t understand this
even if I told him, but I doubt anyone would . . . Balto began to speed up to a
jog as he made his way from the dirt and slush to the sand of the shoreline and
finally up to the wooden plank that led up to the main deck of his boat.
The gander,
just like he had hoped, was indeed waiting for him, running up to him with open
wings. “Oh, Balto!” Boris wrapped his feathery arms around the wolf-dog’s neck
in a hug. “I was so worried that you were going to leave me after what I told
you earlier this morning. You seemed so upset . . . I’m so sorry to hurt your
feelings!”
Balto was
taken by surprise by the gesture of friendship, but he found himself able to
smile, giving Boris a lick on the cheek to forgive him. “It’s okay, Boris. I
could never leave you.”
“Whew!
Thank goodness,” The goose breathed a sigh of relief. “Where’d you run off to
so suddenly?” He curiously asked.
“Just in
town for a while . . . to talk to other dogs, that’s all,” Boris gave Balto a
strange glance, as if to suspect that Balto was out cheating or something. The
wolf-dog blushed at the sight of the curious gander’s thought and brushed it
away with a bark. “No, it’s nothing like that, Boris! I would never break the
loyal vow that Jen and I share . . . and you know that for a fact!”
“So, why is
it so hard for you to find a gift to show how much you love her, huh?” Boris
snapped back, causing the wolf-dog’s ears to droop down his neck.
“I . . . I
don’t wanna sing, that’s all,” Balto explained. “I mean, I’ve talked to Yukon
and Denali, a couple of Jenna’s friends, and even you . . .” And my Mother too,
it seems, Balto added in his personal thoughts. “and all I hear is ‘Sing to
Jenna! Sing to Jenna!’ I just don’t want to, okay!” He let out a deep huff,
signaling his obvious frustration. “There has to be some other thing I can do
to show my love.” His angered rage had exhausted him, making him collapse onto
the ground like an old mutt that had worked nonstop for several hours.
His eyes
began to droop, almost to the point of falling asleep, but a small white paw
with small black fingered claws awoke him with a gasp. It was Muk, the smaller
of the two polar bear brothers, and he only smiled with his much larger sibling
behind him as a pillow cushion for his back.
“Uncle
Balto,” the tiny bear cub began to mutter. “sorry to overhear you, but if you’re
looking for a present for Jenna, why not give her these?” He had had his other
paw behind his back, hiding something, but once he said ‘these’, he revealed a
small bouquet of wildflowers colored in many beautiful hues.
Balto
gasped at the plants with awe. “Oh, how wonderful . . .” The wolf-dog’s ears
and body perked up, causing him to stand to his feet; this time, his voice was
louder and more positive than ever. “How wonderful! This is perfect!” He pushed
his nose against Muk’s, pressing him back into Luk’s large lap. “Where did you
find these?”
“I didn’t
find them; Luk did,” Muk answered. “They were up the hills past town.” Luk let
out a couple of mumbles and snickers; the smaller bear paused to catch and
translate his brother’s words. “Luk says that the humans don’t go up there and
neither do the other dogs, so it should have plenty more left for you to make a
gift for Jenna.”
“That’s great!” Balto, energized with this newfound energy of hope, leapt over the wooden rail, landing at the foot of the boat’s buried bow. “Take me there!"
The two
bears looked at each other with large grins before scampering down the wooden
plank to guide their adoptive uncle to the mysterious flower field they had
discovered. Boris remained on the boat once again; he didn’t want to impose on
their fun and merriment. The gander just sighed and flew himself up to the top
of the boat’s only room, looking out at the shadows of the ones he called his
own, despite their different species and looks.
“Good luck,
boy,” He muttered underneath his breath, speaking only to himself. “I hope this
will do it . . . but I only hope you give Jenna something from the heart . . .
your heart, not someone else’s.” Boris sighed again as he shut his eyes for an
afternoon snooze, awaiting the hour when Balto and the bears would return.
(Part II –
completed 2/18/08)