Cold Spell
Chapter 2
Seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy watched as his older brother walked towards him. He could tell by the look on Frank's face that he had something on his mind, and the younger boy knew that whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it.
Joe let the seat cushions he had been carrying drop to the ground just inside the burrow entrance. He figured if they lay on them it would be warmer than lying directly on the frozen earth.
As Frank got closer, Joe took in his tired, pale face and knew his head had to be hurting, even if he kept insisting otherwise. The blond-haired teen sincerely hoped his brother didn't have a concussion he was trying to conceal.
Frank would never know just how terrified he'd been when the plane finally stopped moving and Joe saw his brother's body, bleeding and unmoving, hanging lifelessly in his seat. For a few long moments, too long in Joe's mind, he'd thought Frank was dead…that he'd lost his older brother to the horrible plane crash!
It still made the younger boy shiver – this time from the intensity of the emotion and not the climate. He had screamed Frank's name over and over again as he fought his way from his own seat towards him, but the older boy hadn't even groaned.
And the blood….
Blinking hard, Joe sucked in a deep breath and then started coughing. The air was dry and felt like knives of ice being driven into his lungs.
"Don't take deep breaths," came the immediate reprimand.
Like I haven't just figured that out, Joe thought sarcastically, and then scolded himself. That kind of attitude wasn't going to help anything right now.
He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest in an effort to keep warm, and started moving again, unable to stay still for very long even when he wasn't freezing to death!
"We have a problem," Frank understated.
"Only one?" Joe couldn't help but quip. His good humor was freezing with the rest of his body.
Frank ignored him.
"One of us has to follow the debris trail. We need the emergency kit. Without it we won't last long."
Joe frowned; he could tell that it wasn't 'one of us', but that his brother had already decided it would be himself. Pursing his lips, he waited for Frank to continue. And he did.
"I think it'd be better if I went. My jacket is warmer than yours, and one of us should stay here and act like a homing beacon." Frank pulled out the whistle as he was speaking. "If I'm not back by bedtime, start blowing the whistle; it'll help me find you."
"You have this all figured out then?" Joe asked, the defiant flash in his eyes made Frank sigh.
Here it comes, the older boy thought, Ding, ding, let the match begin.
"It makes more sense for me to go, actually," Joe commented casually.
Frank raised an eyebrow in a textbook "Dad' move, and Joe continued, "Well, first: Yeah, your jacket is warmer than mine…but because of that, I should go. If I'm on the move, my body will be generating more heat than if I'm waiting around back here."
He paused to give his brother time to refute that. Frank didn't.
"Also, let's just assume that it gets late before I can get back, and the temperature drops again. Well at least I'll have the stuff from the kit to keep me warm, instead of trying to last the night by myself in the burrow. I hate to admit it, bro, but your body heat was the deciding factor last night." Joe looked away, a bit embarrassed by that small admittance. But it had been cold….
"If you find it before then," Frank put in, and Joe shrugged.
"If I find it," Joe agreed, "But I stand as good a chance as you do…."
Frank didn't say anything. Joe continued, "My sense of direction is better…I'm younger…I'm stronger…"
The older boy started to argue, "Those are stupid reasons! What do you mean, you're stronger…your sense of direction is better? And what does age have to do with anything?"
"Frank," Joe said patiently, "I hate to point out the obvious, but you took a nasty blow to the head, big brother. And right now I don't think you're as up to the task as usual, that's all. It just makes more logical sense for the person who doesn't have a head injury to go, doesn't it?"
Frank didn't look convinced, and the younger boy knew his brother was just worried that something might happen.
Finally the dark-haired teen let out an exasperated sigh. Of all the reasons Joe had given, the only one that had any merit was the head injury argument!
"Take my coat," Frank said grudgingly and started to undo it, but Joe shook his head.
"No way. I'm going to have the kit stuff – you'll need this more than I will!"
"If you find it!" Frank said in exasperation, but Joe just rolled his eyes and smiled confidently.
"When I find it. Be the optimist, Frank, I think it'll look good on you!"
Still grinning, Joe stomped his feet and then noticed his brother's empty hands. "Did you find anything to make a fire with?"
Frank looked down in surprise – he'd completely forgotten that that's what he'd left 'home' for!
"Oh brother," he muttered as he turned and stalked away, "I think I just substantiated his whole argument!"
Behind him, Joe's laughter was infectious though, and he was chuckling to himself about it. When they got home, he already knew this little episode was going to be a party favorite!
"See if you can find anything edible while you're gone!" Joe called after his brother, "I'm starved!"
Two hours later Frank came back with his arms full of what Joe could only describe as grass.
"What—" he started to ask, but Frank stopped him.
"Just give me a hand will you?"
Joe rushed forward and took some of the vegetation, only noticing then that there were two different kinds, moss and sticks.
He looked at his brother questioningly, and Frank sighed as he dropped his pile down on the ground. Joe followed suit.
Crouching down, Frank held up the moss. "Firewood," and then he held up the sticks. "Breakfast."
"You gotta be kidding!" Joe scoffed, "Frank, we can't eat sticks!"
"Do you have any other suggestions little brother? Because after scouring the area for the last two hours, this is the best I could find… except for berries and I had nothing to put them in!
Joe still didn't look convinced, and the older boy sighed, "The moss will burn. Not as good or as long lasting as actual kindling, but it'll be a start. And if nothing else, it will make a nice smoky fire—"
"Signal fire," the younger boy put in, following his brother's logic.
"Yeah," Frank agreed, "and this other stuff," he indicated the 'sticks' which on closer inspection, Joe realized were actually young shoots, "is arctic willow. We can strip off the outer bark and eat the inner portion raw. And these leaves are one of the richest sources of vitamin C, containing almost seven to ten times more than an orange!"
Joe looked at his older brother in new awe. All he could say was, "Wow."
Frank blushed. "Too much time watching the Learning Channel," was all he said by way of explanation. And then he looked around to see what Joe had been up to while he'd been gone, and he was equally impressed.
Joe had stripped the leather from the seat cushions, and after laying the actual cushions in the burrow as beds, he'd used the leather to make a door at the entrance, anchoring it in place with large boulders that must have been a pain to move. But they were placed in such a way that they wouldn't have to worry about them falling on them, or sealing them in the hole.
The younger boy had also managed to twist and pound with a rock, a piece of the metal into something that resembled a wide shallow bowl that now contained water. He'd put the 'bowl' on a flat rock so it wouldn't tip over. And he'd been berry picking….
Frank raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Joe shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. The red ones are okay, if I'm remembering right. I saw some mushrooms too, but I wasn't too sure about them."
"Good idea," Frank admitted, "I know some of the mushrooms are okay, but I can't remember which ones."
"Sticks and berries for breakfast," Joe mused, trying to lighten up the situation. "Food for a king. Now, what's say we start a fire. I'm dying of thirst here, but figured we should boil it first."
Nodding, Frank started his moss fire while Joe started stripping the bark from the willow shoots. They worked in silence, each one lost in thought.
Joe screwed up his face at the taste of the willow – the insides were a bit hard and bitter.
Frank saw the grimace and shrugged. "I guess it's too late in the summer to be very succulent."
As the water started to boil, Frank threw a handful of moss into it. Joe looked at him and the older boy sighed, "We need all the nutrients we can get."
Agreeing, Joe waited until after the brew had been boiling for a few minutes and then, hoping his mittens would provide some protection from the now boiling hot 'bowl,' he lifted it carefully and placed it on the ground next to the fire, hissing in pain as he did.
"You okay?" Frank asked as he watched Joe pull off his mittens and blow on his fingers.
"Yeah, just peachy," Joe growled, "burned my fingers, that's all!"
Frank shook his head but didn't say a word. If nothing else, this was proving to be quite a learning experience, all the way around.
After a few minutes, Joe put his mittens back on and sighed, "Sorry, I just thought my mitts would offer some protection."
"Well they did, obviously," Frank put in as he popped some berries into his mouth and then shivered, as they were a lot sourer than he'd been expecting, "or else you'd have dropped the water."
The younger boy stuck out his tongue and then shouted "Hey!" when a red berry was tossed at him. "Do you know how hard I had to work to get that berry!"
Frank just laughed at him and popped another one into his mouth.
"I guess I should start off now," Joe said a little later. He took a long drink from the now cooled 'bowl' before rising to his feet, screwing up his face at the 'special' flavor the moss added. "No use putting this off any longer than necessary."
Frank rose to stand beside his brother. He had a strong desire to go with him, but knew one of them needed to stay here. Their best chance of a rescue was someone spotting the wreckage.
He just hoped the survival kit wasn't too far away, and that Joe would be back within a short time. He didn't relish the idea of being separated in the best of situations, let alone in an environmentally hostile setting.
Pulling his brother into a tight hug, he chastised him, "You'd better be careful, Joe. Find the kit and then get your ass right back here. Heaven help you if I have to come looking for you!"
Joe knew his brother's gruffness came from concern, and he hugged him back. "Don't worry, big brother. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone!" And then pulling away, he quickly moved away from the camp.
It was hard enough saying good-bye to Frank with the very real threat of something bad happening hanging over them, so he cut it short. He needed to get out of here now, or else he'd never leave.
So singing loudly, he walked away… you take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland by morning…
Frank watched him until he could no longer see or hear him anymore. And then sighing, he turned away.
"Keep up that singing, kiddo," he said to himself, "that'll keep the animals away."
As he tossed more moss on the fire, Frank heard his brother's voice again….I'll be back before you even know I'm gone….and
knew it wasn't true.
He already missed him.
Their camp…their 'home-away-from-home'…had suddenly become a very lonely place indeed.
Hurry back, little brother, he thought, hurry back and be safe.