Chapter 7
What Dreams Can Tell
It was around eight o'clock when Balto hobbled up to the door and scratched with an anxious whine. The ghostly yellow light from a lantern shown out through the window and shortly after, Duke pulled the door open enough to poke his head and light bearing arm through and cast the light out to the porch. He saw Balto beaten and bloody with some of his fur missing in hand sized tufts. Duke looked closer and saw the blood dried around Balto's lips and a smile spread slowly across his face.
"Guess they won't be giving you anymore trouble from now on, huh," Duke stated with a measurable amount of enthusiasm.
Balto gazed tiredly up at his master's shadowy face, showing the pain behind his eyes.
"They did something to you didn't they?"
Balto hung his head.
"I'm so sorry."
Duke paused and took in a breath that ineffably turned into a yawn.
"Well," Duke began again using the last bit of wind from the yawn, "come on in and we'll get you cleaned up." Duke stepped away from the door and Balto slipped through the space that Duke had opened up.
"Nice scar by the way," Duke called after noticing the tooth laceration on Balto's muzzle.
But Balto was in no mood for jokes. Just tonight he had taken the lives of three dogs and lost the last bit of family he had left. Duke began striding tiredly for the kitchen and Balto followed closely behind until they reached one of the sets of drawers that ran the length of the back wall. Balto sat as Duke began rummaging through the top drawer. What he sought wasn't there so he tried the one beneath it. He dug through this one until he finally produced a few patches of gauze. He knelt at Balto's side and delicately dabbed the wounds on his back and nose then discarded the bloody gauze and produced a fresh patch along with a clear liquid which he poured into it. This liquid made contact with Balto's open wounds and they seemed to light on fire, making him yelp. Once he was finished, Duke patted Balto's head and stood up. Balto turned and slinked into the room set up just for him and lay down in his new bed.
The dream he had that night would stick in his memory forever, haunting his mind and tormenting his thoughts.
Duke woke early in the morning and fixed himself some breakfast. The smell of food aroused Balto who rolled out of bed and appeared in the kitchen. Duke placed his breakfast on the table and poured a cup full of kibbles into Balto's bowl and the two ate their meals in silence. After the two had their fill, they boarded the small plane and took off into the grey sunrise, passing over mountains white with snow and vast ice deserts that spanned out over the curve of the horizon. Man, dog, and machine moved together in perfect harmony as they continued on. About twenty minutes into the flight, an alarm went off and smoke bellowed out of the engine. The nose of the plane began rapidly to dip towards the earth and pick up speed.
Duke fought for control of the plane, wrenching the gears toward himself in a desperate attempt to slow their descent. The ground rushed up to greet them and they hit hard, throwing both Balto and Duke from the cockpit and into the cold snow. A short while later, Balto regained consciousness on his back and he rolled over onto his belly not entirely sure what had just happened. The first time he tried to lift his head, he felt queasy and vomited. After a few moments, he was finally able to raise his head and moved his eyes ten yards to the unrecognizable pile of bent steel and scattered debris that used to be the bush plane. The cockpit was completely engulfed in flame and areas of snow around the plane were also burning uncontrollably from the fuel.
Balto rose sorely to his feet and glanced frantically around him. About thirty feet away from him, Duke lay face down in the snow with his left arm under his torso and both of his legs twisted outward in opposite directions. Balto limped desperately over to Duke and licked his face. Duke made no response. Balto whined and nuzzled his neck, again with no response. Duke was dead.
Balto jerked up in his bed and immediately regretted it for his entire back locked up from all of his muscles having spasms. He shut his eyes tightly and groaned softly to cope. Once his spastic muscles calmed, he opened his eyes and looked around. It was still dark out, so he slowly lay back down and tried to go back to sleep; but sleep would not take him. He sorely rose from his bed and pushed on his door. To his delight, it slowly began to swing open with only the softest of squeaks. He poked his head through, and then brought the rest of his body with it, bumping the door open slightly more with his hips.
He moved a way down the short hallway and paused. Using his shoulder, he pushed the door to Duke's room open revealing his master deep in the abyss. Balto stood where he was in the door way for a moment and watched the rhythmic rising and falling of Duke's covers and listened to the soft, slow breaths that he exhaled. Balto turned and pulled the door shut to a hair line crack and then padded back into his own room not bothering with his door. He circled twice in his bed and then curled up into a ball wrapping his tail over his eyes.
