Chapter IV

John

"Balto! Balto, where are you?"

I hear Charlie calling me, and although my first instinct is to immediately turn and run to him, I stay still for a few more seconds, looking for the fox that I was talking to. I still have questions I want answers for. But I look all around, and she seems to be gone; off to who knows where.

"Balto!"

Charlie calls again, and this time, I have no option but to leave before I can find the fox. I run out of the wasteland and into the town, and I see Charlie standing across the street.

I try to bark, but that's something I can't do. Instead, what leaves my mouth is the sound of a short, deep howl. Wolves don't bark. Charlie sees me and he looks relieved as he runs to me; bag jumping on his shoulder as he holds my leash and a brown paper bag on his hand.

"There you are!" He says as he knees down and puts the brown bag on the ground, reaching for my leash and attaching it to my collar again, "Hungry?"

The warm smell of food that comes from the bag makes my belly rumble, and I try to grab the bag with my mouth. However, Charlie notices it and holds my leash back before I can do it.

"Calm down, boy," He smiles, standing up, "We're supposed to share this."

He motions for us to move and I begin walking by his side. I wonder if we're just walking around, or if we have a specific destination. It's when Charlie stops and sticks his hand down his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.

Charlie sighs as he puts the paper back in his pocket. I lick the hand that is holding my leash, hoping to comfort him; and it seems to startle him a bit before he pets me and scratches my ear. And just like that, we're back to walking.

However, we're walking much slower now, as Charlie looks to the houses around us. I wish I knew what he's looking for so that I could help him find it, but so far, I'm clueless. I look at his face, and it's when I see him smile and his eyebrows shoot up that I know he's found what he's looking for.

He holds tighter on my leash and we cross the street, stopping in front of a small yellow house; it's got a small garden and no gates in front of it. Is this where we're going to stay while in this town?

"John?" Charlie calls and approaches the door, knocking on it, "John! It's me, Charlie."

Who is John? This is the first time I'm ever hearing his name. Are we going to stay with him?

Charlie seems apprehensive when nobody answers his call. He looks to the windows to check if there's any movement in the house, I suppose, but the curtains are drawn and there is no sound coming from inside. I don't think anyone's home at all.

Charlie sighs and slams his back against the door, sliding to the ground and folding his legs. He slides his bag down his shoulder until it's laying by his side and takes the paper bag in his lap, opening it. I lay down by his side and wag my tail, laying my head on his knee and looking up at him.

"Are you making those puppy eyes to get food?"

He laughs at me and it makes me feel happy. Charlie pets me before opening the brown bag and taking out a sandwich. I jump up, the smell of food once again making my belly rumble; and I paw his knee to ask for a bite.

"Wow, calm down, boy," he tells me as he pushes me away a bit and lays the sandwich on the ground near me, "This one is for you."

I waste no time in eating it up, practically in one bite only, as Charlie laughs and takes his own sandwich out of the bag.

I'm still hungry when I finish my meal, but it's enough to fool my hunger for a while. I sit down by Charlie's side with my tongue out, panting. It's been too long since I drank any water, I realize.

"Thirsty?" Charlie asks, wiping his mouth.

Humans may be weird, but they can be smart. Like Charlie is.

He wipes his hands on his jacket after finishing his sandwich and reaches for his bag again. He takes out a bottle of water and turns the cap open, drinking half of it before he pours the rest slowly into his hand and holds it out for me. It's a bit hard to get it as a lot of it drops down through his fingers, but my thirsty is gone nevertheless.

"Charlie?"

Both Charlie and I look up and our eyes meet those of an old man wearing old green clothes. He smells of oil, gasoline, alcohol and something else I can't tell. I can tell, however, that these smells have become part of his scent. Staying with this man, if we must, won't be pleased.

"Hello," Charlie jumps up and wipes his hands on his clothes before reaching out, "Uh, John."

"You've grown," The man says with no expression, looking Charlie up and down. He drops a heavy, old leather bag he'd been carrying on the ground and it lets out a loud thud. John then approaches Charlie and shakes his hand, staining my boy's hand black.

"Uh, yeah, suppose I have." Charlie muttered and gulped. I can tell this John makes him nervous. "It's been a while."

"Sure has. Come on in," The man tries to walk around us, but then he stops by my side and glares down at me. His expression changes from neutral to disgusted. Sure, between the two of us I am the dirty one. "What is that?"

Excuse me?

"What?" Charlie asks as he pulls my leash to pull me closer.

"You father didn't mention a dog in his letter."

I can hear Charlie gulp, "Well, he should have. This is Balto, he's my dog."

John sighs heavily, "Listen kid, this is war. We might have to evacuate at any time. I don't have time to watch over you and an animal. Besides, feeding it costs money, money we don't have. I don't think we can keep that."

Charlie straightens himself up as I step forward.

"His name is Balto, he's not an it. He's my dog, my friend. I don't care if it's war, I'm not leaving him."

I look up at Charlie and smile. I'm not leaving you either buddy, ever. No matter what some old guy says.

This might feel short and slow, but it's how I want the beginning of the story to be. Besides, this is just a side project.

To the review who asked what year this is, it's set in WWII, so 1939-1945. I'd rather not set a specific year so that I don't have as many historical events to follow and can be more creative.

Thanks for reading!