Ray's POV again. Enjoy.

Chapter Forty-one: Adventure Mode

Yeah, thanks, Fraser. There was a reason I left out the part about mistaking a girl puppy for a boy puppy. Just gotta tell all the embarrassing parts, don'tcha? Of course, you do. There's honesty, and then there's discretion. I'd have thought the "better part of valor" was all up your alley.

Anyway. I take my aspirin, drink my bark tea and start to feel a little better. We got some great pictures with the puppies. Maggie's fireplace made a nice backdrop. In all the posing, I realized that what Fraser considers a "smile" is more to do with his eyes than his mouth. He's still a freak, but at least there's a pattern to his behavior.

Maggie's a little less reserved. She acts tough and dignified, but if you can surprise her with something cute or funny, her smile's really normal. And pretty.

When it was time to go to bed, I figured I'd be sleeping in the living room with Fraser, but he and Maggie thought I should sleep in her room again because of my shoulder. I like having a bed and everything (and I'm not gonna lie, I liked how it smelled like her), but it seemed like they were making a big fuss—as much as those two "fuss" about anything—over next to nothing. But in the end, it's easier to just humor them. The last thing I wanted was for someone to suggest that a doctor settle the argument.

I could hear them talking again as I was trying to go to sleep. I knew they probably still had a ton to catch up on, since this visit was only the third time they'd been together. I half wished I were sleeping out there with the two of them. And I half wished I at least had the energy to get up and listen at the door. And damn it, Fraser says that if half of me wanted to be in the living room and the other half wanted to listen at the door, then I "couldn't possibly have remained in bed, and yet that's what you did." Fine. A quarter of me wanted to be out there, a quarter wanted to listen at the door, but half wanted to stay in bed. Happy? Geez.

I woke to the smell of coffee the next morning. Thank God for coffee. I was feeling sore again, and my shoulder was throbbing. I mumbled good morning to the others on my way to the bathroom and shut myself in. Once I'd relieved myself, I took a quick shower (who knew when I'd get another chance), dried myself off, got halfway dressed and got out the miracle liniment.

Treating my shoulder went fine, but when it came to trying to reach the tight muscles between my shoulder blades—forget it. I thought about just giving it up. Then I thought about asking Fraser. I wasn't sure what the protocol was. This was something you might ask of a spouse or a girlfriend… but a friend? Even a best friend, I wasn't sure. Then I thought about all the crap Fraser had done to keep me from freezing to death on our last trip and I was like, This can't be any weirder than that. At least, I was sure he wouldn't see it that way.

I opened the door a little and called, "Fraser? C'mere for a minute."

A second later, he came to the door and I explained my situation. I still couldn't bring myself to actually ask him for help. I mean, how would I word it? Luckily, he got the message. But then he closed the door, and I'm wondering what the hell Maggie thought was going on in there.

Fraser said he'd wanted to give me more privacy. Yeah… the trouble is, we're both in there having "privacy." Why doesn't he understand these things?! He thinks a powwow in the can at work is the same as holing up in some chick's bathroom while he rubs things into my skin. Oh, god, that is so not the same.

And then he asks me if I wanna open the door. Like… it's too late now, dude. What's done is done. He just doesn't get it. (And I know he's gonna read this before we post it, so I'm just gonna say, love you anyway, man. Now give me a damn Bud Light.)

He told me I needed better posture and I was already annoyed, so I kinda snapped at him. Then he shut up until he'd finished applying the liniment.

I didn't tell him which areas were the worst off, but he found them all. Fraser could have done a lot of things successfully besides being a Mountie, and one was being a masseuse. But I wasn't about to tell him he was doing a good job. No way. I was just trying not to make a single sound, because that stuff kind of stung and burned and froze at the same time, and it makes you squirm, but it feels so good. Not that he'd have found it awkward, but I sure would.

Finally, he stopped. (It was probably less than five minutes in real time.) "How is that?" he asked.

"Better," I said. I took the bottle back and capped it. "Thanks. You can go." Get out.

He left and I leaned on the door when he was gone. I closed my eyes and finally let myself enjoy the tingle. I felt hella better. I was addicted to that stuff, for sure. I'd better stay friends with Maggie or learn to make the liniment myself. Better yet, get Maggie to put it on for me…

My eyes snapped open. No. I was not letting myself go there. I had to get things straightened out with Franny. With my luck, neither of them would end up wanting me. That was the story of my life.

I washed my hands and put on my layers of shirts. Coffee time.

Maggie had made us all breakfast instead of expecting us to just eat pemmican, but of course that's what they were talking about when I joined them. Then, when she gave me a mug of coffee, she surprised me by also offering a bottle of maple syrup.

"In my coffee?" I asked.

"Sure. It's better for you than sugar, and sweeter, too. Try it."

I did, and she was so right. I've always liked maple flavor, like maple walnut ice cream and maple bacon, but maple coffee is pretty amazeballs.

Then Fraser reminded me I hadn't called my parents. How do I keep forgetting them? I'm a terrible son.

Maggie let me use her phone and my dad answered.

"Hey, Dad," I said, bracing myself. I'd hoped Mom would answer.

"Ray. Finally. Where are you?"

At least he wasn't yelling, and he hadn't called me Stanley. "I'm in Inuvik. It's… it's in the Northwest."

I heard him call to Mom, "Barbara, it's Ray." Then his voice got clearer again. "What have you been up to the last two days?"

"The first day was all traveling. A lotta planes. We're about to go to Nunavut now—that's northeast. Big, islandy territory."

"And that's where you think the dead guy is?"

"Yeah, on King William Island. At least, we hope so. How are things there?"

"Oh, same-same."

"Would you do me a favor and let everyone at the precinct know we got here okay? I don't want to make many long-distance calls if I can help it."

"Sure. I'll do that."

"Thanks."

"Here, your mother wants the phone. Good talking to you, son."

"Yeah. You, too."

"Hello, Ray," Mom said.

"Hi, Mom."

"Are you staying warm enough?"

"Yes. I'm using the stuff you got me. It's great. We stayed with Fraser's sister. We're about to leave for Nunavut any time now. Just waiting on a guy to get here with a truck to move the dogs."

"Oh, that's exciting. Are you getting enough to eat?"

I smiled and rolled my eyes. "Yes, Mom. Maggie made us eggs and toast. I tried maple syrup in my coffee. It's great. It is greatness."

She laughed. "Just don't forget to brush your teeth, especially the sweet one."

"Uh-huh. How are you guys doing?"

"We're fine. Your dad's taking me to the farmer's market today to find something for my window boxes."

"Cool." I heard a vehicle crunching into the yard and the dogs barking. "Okay. Our ride is here; I gotta go."

"All right. Stay safe! We love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

We got suited up and went outside where we met Maggie's friend/neighbor/acquaintance (I think she knows most of the people in Inuvik somehow) Jeff Davis, and then we put the dogs in crates to load in the truck.

I crouched by the puppy box and cuddled a couple of the little wrigglers one more time. Then I petted Star and even gave her a kiss on the head. "Sorry you can't come, baby," I told her. "Just take care of these guys and we'll bring Nanouk and the others back to you soon. Good girl."

Fraser was saying goodbye to Maggie when I came out. If I didn't know they were siblings, I'd have thought he definitely looked like a smitten boyfriend the way he tenderly held her hand and kissed her forehead. But then she smacked him on the arm and they were all siblingy again.

I stepped in to say my farewells, and I didn't know what to say. And Fraser standing there wasn't making it any easier. "Fraser…"

"I know, I know," Fraser muttered, turning around.

Maggie grinned at me.

I decided to kiss her cheek like I had back in Chicago (when she came back for the Torelli brothers' trial), and she did the same in return. I took her hand, but didn't try for more than that because of the whole precarious Francesca thing.

"Thanks for everything," I said. "See you soon."

"All right. Be careful," she told me. She didn't just say it because it's one of the things you say—I could tell she really wanted me to be okay.

I gave her hand a little squeeze through our gloves and let go.

"Ready?" Fraser asked.

"As I'll ever be," I said, going to join him.

We squashed into the cab with Jeff—I had to be in the middle, of course, being the skinny one—and waved to Maggie. I thought she looked a little lonely. It was just going to be her, Star and the puppies for a while.

Not long, I hoped. We had a little over a week to find Franklin and get back home.

When we landed at Taloyoak Airport, we loaded the dog crates on this big luggage cart as they were unloaded from the plane. Then we wheeled it into the terminal and met the old friend Fraser had mentioned to me.

It's crazy how Fraser's whole personality seemed to shift when he saw this guy. The other man was clearly at least half Inuit and though it's hard for me to judge, I thought he looked around Fraser's age. He was a little shorter and thinner, but still looked strong. He smiled and the two of them moved together like long-lost brothers.

The other guy took both of Fraser's arms, leaned in, and for a second I thought he was gonna kiss him. Instead he put his face against Fraser's face and kinda sniffed. I'd seen this greeting a few times on our previous trip, so I knew it wasn't necessarily a romantic thing, but it was definitely intimate. These two had a history of close friendship.

"It's been too long, Ben," he said.

"I know," Fraser answered, looking a little guilty.

"You don't write much anymore."

He looked even more guilty. "You're right. I've gotten distracted. Innusiq, I want you to meet my good friend Ray Kowalski."

Innusiq smiled at me and held out his hand to shake.

"Innusiq?" I asked, eyes wide as I absent-mindedly accepted the handshake. "The Innusiq? The kid from your three-man Scout troop?"

Innusiq laughed. "So, he has mentioned me."

"Yes," said Fraser. "This is the same Innusiq. He ended up marrying June."

"No kidding," I said.

"Only because you moved away," Innusiq said with a wink. "Best favor you ever did me."

"Can she boil water yet?" I asked.

He laughed again. Then he leaned a little closer to me and said, "Let's just say, I do most of the cooking."

I grinned.

"They have a daughter now," said Fraser.

"And a son," added Innusiq. "Born last month. That's why June didn't come along, though she wanted to. I brought a picture." He got out his wallet and showed Fraser, then me.

Inuit babies are damn cute. That's all I've got to say.

"What's his name?" asked Fraser.

"We call him Tarkik, for my father. But his birth certificate says Benton."

Fraser did a double-take. "Really?" he asked.

"Someone has to carry on your spirit," Innusiq said. "But we didn't want him to feel strange among his Inuit friends."

Still flabbergasted, Fraser stammered, "I-I'm so honored… Innusiq, it's wonderful."

"Well, of course. He's my son."

"But I'm not dead yet."

"You were for all we knew!"

Fraser looked guilty again, getting another laugh out of his friend.

"Anyway, are we going to stand around here all night, or are we going to pick up Diefenbaker?"

I decided I liked Innusiq. I could see why Fraser did, too. He wasn't loud, but he was confident and easy-going. He seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't hold a grudge against anyone and would put everything he had into helping a stranger, but still not the kind of guy you could con easily. I wished we had time to visit with his family.

He helped us get the dog crates into a pickup that contained his own dogsled which he was lending to us. Then he drove us down to the quarantine station where we were reunited with Dief, who just about wagged his tail off and had to be told very firmly that jumping on us was not appropriate. I knelt down so he didn't feel the need and he almost licked my ears off. He liked Innusiq right away too, though Fraser said they'd never met before.

Then Innusiq took us to the privately-owned plane that would take us to King William Island.

"Be careful up there," he said. "The Netsilik can be… Well, you know."

Fraser nodded. "We encountered them on our last journey to the island. It was shortly after Ray's first real introduction to Inuit culture."

"Yeah," I said, rubbing my gloves together, trying to warm my hands. "A lot of firsts… We slept in an igloo. Like, a real one. And those people really eat raw seal. Innards and all. And the throat singing… so bizarre." I stopped, worried I might be offending Innusiq, but he just looked really amused.

"Ben was obsessed with throat singing!" he said.

"It wasn't an obsession," Fraser protested.

"He badgered June to teach him, but she didn't want to. Finally, she gave in."

"How did that go?" I asked.

"Not so good, because he kept making her laugh."

I chuckled. "I thought it was kind of a women's thing."

"It is. That's the reason she couldn't stop laughing."

Fraser was starting to look kinda pink. "Well, no one told me it was exclusively for women," he grumbled.

The pilot appeared at the door over the plane's wing. "I've lashed everything down and we're ready to go," he called.

Innusiq gave Fraser a quick hug. "Tavvauvusi," he said to both of us.

Fraser nodded to him and we climbed into the plane.

"What did he say?" I asked as we took our seats.

"Goodbye," Fraser answered.

"Oh, yeah… I think I remember that from last time. Think those Inuit kids will remember us?"

"I imagine so."

Our connecting flight was kind of scary. It was close to the size of the plane Fraser and I had stowed away on, but fortunately we were riding inside… with six dog crates.

I was surprised at how calm the dogs stayed through the whole trip. They hadn't been sedated or anything. I guess they just trusted Fraser that much. Looking around at all of them, I relaxed a little. The dogs weren't worried. Fraser wasn't worried. I shouldn't worry.

We did have a little turbulence, but nothing too crazy. Then we were landing in Gjoa Haven. The airport is so small, it looks more like a stable—the planes are like horses tied to a hitching post.

"Please tell me we're staying in the hotel," I said as we unloaded our bags, crates and the dogsled.

"Only as a last resort," Fraser answered, getting the dogs out of their crates one at a time to feed them and let them relieve themselves. "I think we can find less expensive accommodations by making a bargain with a resident or businessman."

"You didn't make arrangements."

"We didn't last time."

"And last time we ended up sleeping in an igloo."

"Yes, we did." He was smiling.

"Stop looking so cheerful about it."

"You know, I was thinking that our journey may have been very much like John Franklin's. Perhaps he, too, could find no shelter near the shore and ended up taking refuge in an igloo."

"His men didn't. Why just him?"

"That's what we have to find out."

"Call me a doubter, but after a hundred and fifty years, I don't think anyone's talking." I tugged my scarf tighter, wishing I'd gotten out my ski mask at the last stop.

Fraser put Dief's harness on and passed me the loop. "Hitch him up, will you?"

"Yeah." I took Dief along the sled's gangline and hitched him in the lead position. "Good boy, Dief," I said, ruffling his ears. "Guess what. Star had puppies. Tell me the truth—any of 'em yours?"

He made a noise somewhere between a whine and Scooby-Doo's "Eroo?"

"All right. I had to ask."

Fraser brought Nanouk over and hitched him to his tugline and then to Dief with a neckline. Our pilot loaded the empty crates back onto the plane. He would bring them back when we were ready to leave again.

There was a lot more snow here than in Inuvik. It wasn't likely to get above freezing, even in the middle of the day. It was late afternoon and still very cold. I couldn't wait to get back inside a building, and I hoped someone would agree to let us stay for a reasonable rate so Fraser wouldn't decide we should camp out. The igloo hadn't been terrible—kind of cozy, actually—but it was dark and kind of a culture shock. You wake up and instead of light streaming through a window, it's this vague, checkered glow coming through the cracks. Kinda blueish. Makes me think of a spaceship or something.

When the dogs were all hitched up, we loaded our bags on the sled and I nestled down into them. Fraser made sure I was tucked in and then signaled the dogs to go.

Some of my annoyance went away as we headed into town. The dogsled sounds were familiar, and it was the two of us on the trail again. Even though I knew we were after something really far-fetched, I felt excited again. Maybe this was it. Maybe this time, we'd find him.

After a little while, I heard Fraser singing to himself, getting a little louder as he went along. I recognized the tune he'd sung down the crevasse that time we thought we might freeze and/or starve to death before anyone found us. He'd sung it several times on our previous trip, too, and I had the chorus memorized, so when he got there I joined in. For all my protesting, I was back in adventure mode.

Fraser complained that I was switching tenses again. Sorry. Hope you liked it anyway. ~Ray K.