THE ICE KING

Chapter 4

The Ravens

         "Gus! Gus! Are you all right!!?" Justin yelled as soon as he had managed to roll over and sit up.

         A muffled voice yelled, "Get me outta heeerrrre!!"

         Justin looked over and saw in a rather amused kind of horror, two little legs sticking out of the snow. And that's all. The rest of Gus was plowed into the snowdrift at a 45 degree angle. "Help! Help!" said the muffled voice, the two little legs with his red rubber boots, waving pell mell in the air.

         "Hang on Gus! I've gotcha, boy!" And Justin grabbed the legs and pulled and pulled and with a kind of ...POP! Gus was pulled out of the snow like a cork from a bottle. Both of them were thrown backwards and they landed on their backs, deep in the snow again. But at least they were free.

         Finally they sat up and took a look around them to see where they were.

         It was daylight. About mid morning, Justin figured. Snow was falling thickly and it was bitterly cold but there was no wind now. They were in a vast snowy field or even meadow whose grasses were long since buried and asleep under a deep blanket of snow. A little ways over to the north was the beginning of a wood. And beyond that they could see a plume of smoke of what could be civilization rising over the trees.

         "Where are we Papa?" asked Gus.

         "I don't know buddy," Justin answered, "But where there's smoke, there's fire. We should head that way. Do you think you can make it to the woods? The snow will be less deep in there."

         "I'm cold. But I think I can make it," Gus said staunchly.

         "Good." Together they began wading through the snow. This was difficult at first because Justin kept sinking waist deep in the stuff and poor Gus just sank up to his neck with every step and had to have Justin pull him out constantly.

         After a few minutes of this and getting nowhere fast, Justin tramped out a bit of a hollow where Gus could stand. Then he began to run at the snow and jump, just jump and flatten as much as he could. Then he'd get up and do it again. And again. And again. And Gus would follow slowly in the growing trail.

         It was still slow going but faster than before. But it was not without its price. Justin's entire front grew soaking wet. His legs were wet. Snow got in his boots. The cold, that terrible all consuming cold, began to seep into the marrow of his bones again. His legs were numb by the time they were halfway to the forest. Gus was cold too but at least he could walk in Justin's wake and only sink up to his shins.

         Justin jumped and dove and tramped, jumped, dove and tramped, jumped, dove and tramped. He began to get tired. He tried to tell himself that it was just because of the exertion but when the numbness had spread to his arms and his back ached with the cold and the only thing he wanted to do was sleep, he figured he was probably headed, if not in already, a shitload of trouble.

         Finally, he turned around and rested and asked Gus, "Gus baby, is Papa blue?"

         "Yeah, a little. And your lips are white, Papa," Gus answered with childlike honesty.

         "OK, Gus, we're going to play a game, OK? Would you like that?"

         "Oh yes, Papa! Let's play!" Gus clapped his hands together delightedly. He'd been so bored.

         "OK, this new game is called Pack Mule. I'm going to keep breaking trail and you drive me on by yelling and slapping my back. Whatever happens don't let Papa sleep or stop. The game ends when we get to the forest. Got it?'

         "OK, Papa. Got it." Gus thought this was a weird kind of game but at this point he was up for everything.

         Wearily, Justin turned and started out again. Jump, Dive, Tramp...Jump, Dive, Tramp. He checked the forest. It seemed sooo far off. Jump. Dive. Tramp. God, he wanted to sleep so bad. As if from a far way off, he could hear Gus yelling: "Yaaaa! Yahhhhh! Yahh, mule! Yahh mule! Git going! Git going! He felt tiny hands slapping his sore back and his ass. He focused all his energy on that little voice, those little hands as he jumped and dove through the snow as a dolphin does the ocean. He focused on that voice every time he was tempted to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume him.

         "Yahh! Yahhh! Yahhh Mule! Git goin' Git goin! Gus squealed with gleeful laughter. This WAS fun! This was the closest he had ever gotten to be able to order around a grown up. Usually, he was the one getting ordered around. He slapped Papa's ass. "Keep going mule!" he spurred Papa on.

         Jump. Dive. Tramp. Jump. Dive. Tramp. And at last they were there. They reached the trees. The forest stretched out before them. The snow there was still deep but it was navigable; it was only knee deep or so.

         Justin stood and found a fairly wide space between the trees that might have been a trail. His arms and legs felt like stumps of wood and he began to shiver uncontrollably.

         "OK, Gus, next game. It's called Pick up Sticks. I want you to pick up twigs as we go along. Also, look for a sheltered spot. Maybe some trees or against a big rock, OK?"

         "OK, Papa." As they walked through the woods, Justin felt a small mittened hand slip into his own soaked one.

         And so, they went along, Justin concentrating all his effort on putting one foot in front of the other and Gus running to and fro gathering twigs.

         About five minutes in, Gus gave a squeal, and ran off the trail. Then he came back pulling Justin urgently.

         "Come on, Papa! Come on! I found a place! I found a place!" Gus dragged him over to a place where there was a circle of pine trees growing close together. Gus bent down and crawled through the thick boughs. "Come on in Papa! You have to crawl! It's like a fort in here!"

         Obediently, Justin bent and crawled through and was charmed at what he found there. The circle of pines formed a sheltered spot free of wind and even the snow fell less in here. There was barely any snow on the ground in here. Justin could even see a large quantity of pine needles, although they were wet.

         "OK, Gus, I need you t-t-t-t-to h-h-h-h-elp Papa! I w-w-want you t-t-t-to dig a space free of snow and make a c-c-c-circle of st-st-st-stones."

         "OK, Papa. I'll be right back." Gus crawled back out into the forest and quickly mucked around in the snow until he was able to find a number of stones. As he went, he also gathered more wood too. Meanwhile, Justin pulled off his mittens, which were soaked and so cold they were starting to stiffen. He flexed his fingers with difficulty. He unzipped his pack with difficulty and with even more difficulty took out the box of matches. His brain felt slow and stupid. For a long minute he looked at them and tried to remember what they were for. They were important. At last he remembered. Yes. They were matches. He put them close by. He shivered violently. He couldn't stop shivering.

         Soon, Gus came back and brought in the stones. He dug out a center spot and made a circle with the stones.

         Slowly, Justin tried to gather up pine needles and put them in the fire pit. Gus hurried to help.

         "Now," Justin struggled to think. "Make a t-t-t-tepee with the wood." Gus did so. "OK, Gus, I'm going to st-st-st-strike a match. It's going to be y-y-y-you're job to hold Papa's wr-r-r-r-rist to k-k-k-keep my hand st-st-st-st-eady. I can't stop shivering. And when the fire's lit you can't let me f-f-f-f-fall asleep. That's very important. Must. Stay. Awake. OK?"

         "OK, Papa." Gus didn't really understand how he was going to keep Papa awake forever but it seemed to be a very serious thing. And so he was going to do it.

         Justin struck the match and Gus held his wrist steady. Slowly, together they moved the match to the pine needles. Justin prayed silently. The pine needles smoked heavily at first, and then, miraculously, caught. The small fire flared and died, flared and died. Gus added more. The fire caught again and caught the twigs on fire. Then the larger sticks. The fire blazed.

         "Thank God!" Justin breathed and sagged in relief. His strength was now at an end. "Don't let the fire go out Gus. Keep it burning. Don't let me sleep. Don't let...me..." Justin fell asleep.

         "No, Papa! No! Don't go to sleep! Wake up!" But it was no use. Justin wouldn't wake.

         And now Gus began to be very scared. He was far from home and alone in the woods. And now his Papa wouldn't wake up. The sticks he had gathered were burning quite fast. He added more but he could tell it was only a matter of time before they would be consumed as well. He began to cry quietly.

         He added a few more sticks and crawled out to find more. The wind was picking up and it was still snowing heavily. The tears froze on his face. He gathered some more sticks but he was getting so cold and tired himself. He felt completely alone, which he was. He felt complete helpless and hopeless, which he also was. He didn't know what to do. He was so scared. He cried harder.

         "Help!" he cried softly and then louder, "Help! HELP ME! HELP ME!"

         A part of him knew there was no use in this but a larger; little boy part of him couldn't stop. Besides, he was so small and the forest was so very big and so very, very quiet. He had to do something. "HELP ME!!! HELLLLPPPP!!!!"

         AWWWK! AWWWK! We'll help you! We'll help you! Only stop making such a noise! You'll wake the whole forest! CAWWWW! We'll help you!"

         Down from the top of a tall tree, flew two ravens who perched on a low hanging branch. They looked at Gus in that sideways way birds do "So, what's the matter?" one asked.

         I need more wood for my fire and my Papa won't wake up!" said Gus. "I'm scared!"

         "Well, don't be frightened. We'll help you," said the first raven in a gravelly, squawky type voice. We'll help you." He flew down and alighted on Gus' left shoulder. I'm Jack!"

         "The first thing to do is gather more wood for your fire and get back to your camp. Where is that?" asked the second raven in an equally gravely voice and flew down to settle on Gus' right shoulder. "My name's Jacques."

         Gus was delighted. He was no longer alone and he could feel the panic that had threatened to overwhelm him begin to subside. And once again, he had made some fantastical friends. He picked up a number of twigs and even broke off a few branches but only ones that looked really dead and ready to fall off. Then he headed back to the camp.

         "We're in here," he said crawling through. He was just in time. The fire was about ready to go out again. He put on a few twigs and it started up again. He held his hands in front of it, trying to absorb some warmth.

         The ravens shuffled in after him and shook the snow off their feathers. "Ahhh, nice place you got here," said Jack.

         "So what's the problem?" asked Jacques.

         "I have to keep the fire burning but the wood is too small. I don't know what to do!" wailed Gus, " And Papa told be to keep him awake but I couldn't do it! He's right there. Something's wrong and I don't know what!"

         "Uh oh!" said Jack, "I've seen this before." He hopped onto Justin's chest and walked over to look into his face. "Let me look into his eyes and check his pupils."

         Gus obediently opened an eye and Jack tilted his head and leaned in until his beady eye was inches away from Justin's electric blue one. "Yup! I know exactly what's wrong with him. Indigestion! YAAWWWK!"

         "No, you fool!" squawked Jacques, "He's freezing to death! You must get him out of all his wet clothes and in a blanket or something."

         "Here's a blanket!" said Gus excitedly, unstrapping and unrolling the bedroll from Justin's backpack

         "Good! Now quickly, get those clothes off him and get him inside it. He won't last much longer."

         As quickly as his little boy hands could, Gus unzipped, unbuttoned, pulled and pushed until he had gotten all Justin's coats off. Then he peeled off his shirt, which was also soaked.

         "The boots! The boots!" squawked Jacques. So Gus removed them too and the socks. Lastly, with even more difficulty, Gus pulled off Justin's pants. He rolled and pulled Justin until his smooth, wet skin was on top of the furry lining of the bedroll and then covered him up in it. Then, with the help of the ravens, he hung all the wet clothes up on tree branches to dry. (He hoped.)

         While Gus was busy doing that, the birds kept an eye on the fire feeding it with the twigs and branches they had collected. When he was done at last and Justin was safely under wraps, Jack said: "All right Gus, what you need now is a larger, solid piece of wood that will burn for a long time. I know where there is a tree that fell over. There will be a few large pieces that you can collect and bring back here. I can guide you there and back. Jacques will keep the fire until we get back. But we should hurry. I can feel the temperature dropping and the wind picking up. Soon it will be too late."

         "Too late! Oh no! We have to go right away!" said Gus in childlike enthusiasm.

         "Are you warmly bundled?" asked Jack.

         Gus assured him he was and they set off. Outside the windbreak, the wind was indeed picking up, the snowfall was thick, and the cold was cruel. Gus pulled his hats down snugly over his ears and forehead but it was no use. It was as if he wasn't wearing anything at all.

         "AWWWK!! Follow me! Follow me!" said Jack, leading Gus deeper and deeper into the forest. Gus kept his hands over top of his eyes to shield from snowflakes and followed Jack as quickly as he could. Once, a gust of wind blew him down but he got up quickly. For a few seconds, he felt a stab of fear that he had lost Jack but then he caught sight of a spot of black against the falling white.

         "CAWWWW! This way! This way!" called Jack.

         At last they were there. Jack instructed Gus to break off a pine branch and place several chunks of wood of various sizes onto it. Then he had him drag the pine branch all that long, cold, lonely way back to the camp.

         When they returned they found Jacques in an awful tizzy. He had run out of wood and was frantically flying to and fro in the wood picking up sticks and placing them on the fire one by one in a losing battle to keep the fire alive.

         "Thank goodness you're back!" he said in his squawky voice. "I nearly couldn't keep up!"

         "Well, we're back now!" said Gus, "And just in time, I think."

         Indeed, the wind outside their little circle was now very strong and the snow was very thick and fast. Visibility was almost nil. And it was starting to get dark. Inside the shelter, the snow was coming down lightly and even the thick pines couldn't keep out the wind entirely. A light constant breeze blew through the fort but at least it was nothing compared to the wind outside.

         "Hurry!" said Jack, "Put on the smaller pieces first!" Gus did so. They waited till it caught and then Jack instructed, "OK, good, now carefully boy, put that large log over top. Carefully now!"

         And so, Gus quickly but carefully put a large hunk over top of the blaze. The fire seemed to be tamped out for a moment but after a bit of poking and leaning a few small pieces against the big one, it began to blaze up again and it was clear the big piece of wood was going to catch fire.

         "Thank you! Thank you so much!" said Gus gratefully, "I really couldn't have done this without you!"

         "No thank needed! No thanks needed!" said Jacques. "How's your Papa--awwwwk?"

         Gus hurried to check. "He's still breathing. But he's still cold as ice!"

         "Hmmmm. You're going to have to strip and get in there with him," said Jacques.

         "What!?" Gus shrieked.

         "For body heat. Plus your clothes are quite wet as well. If you do not want to share his fate, it's best you get out of them a fast as possible. Besides, it's getting dark. It's best you get under cover."

         "But I can't get under there! We took off all my Papa's clothes! I can't get under there when he's nekee!"

         "Do you have any spare underwear? Pants?" At Gus' assurance that he did, Jacques instructed " Change into them by the fire and move the bedroll as close to the fire as you can and then get in. Don't worry, Gus." Jacques nuzzled him affectionately. "It'll be all right. This is an emergency."

         Gus obeyed and hung his wet clothes on the trees and then crawled in with Justin and zipped up the bedroll. There was nothing more to do anyway and he was weary from all that work. He was hungry too but he ignored that for now. This was an ‘mergancy.

         Oh, it was awful! His Papa was like ice. Gus felt as if Papa had been kissed by the Ice King. But his back was to the fire and while his front was pressed up against Papa and freezing, his back was hot from the fire. So it all evened out. Sort of. Gus pulled the bedroll over both their heads and snuggled in. Soon, he was fast asleep.

JGJGJGJGJGJGJGJG

         Justin was dreaming.

         In the dream, he was in Bri's arms and Bri was in his. They were pressed chest to chest. They were cuddling, really cuddling, in a way that Bri never wanted to, swore he never would. But he was doing it now and he was so warm, so real, Justin never wanted to let go.

         My goodness, he felt so solid, so real. But his head was too small. Why was his head so small? Still half asleep, trying to hold onto the dream, Justin felt around the small mop of silky hair, trying to figure this out.

         Bri looked up and said, "Are you feeling better, Papa?" in Gus' voice.

         Justin blinked and then jerked awake. Oh, God, it was Gus! But if this was Gus, where was Bri? Where were they? What had they done? What had he done? OHGODOHDEARGOD!!! WHAT HAD HE DONE!!!?

         Justin jackknifed to a sitting position in one swift motion. The bedroll partially unzipped to make way and uncovered Gus's tousled brown bed head and bare little boy torso.

         "Ohhh, Papa! That's cold!" complained the youngster, pulling the furry lining of the bedroll back over them.

         "GUS!! What are you doing in the same bedroll as me!? Justin asked, trying and failing a little to keep the panic out of his voice.

         "I was giving you my bodies heat," said Gus calmly, "You were freezing to death. Besides it was getting dark and there was nowhere else."

         "Gus, we brought a little bedroll for you. You should have- should have-..."

         But what Gus should have done died in his throat as he looked around their sheltered glade. All their clothes had been hung up on tree branches. The fire had a large log of wood on it, blackened and crumpled in toward the middle. The flames had gone down but underneath, Justin could see white hot embers that smouldered, ready to flare back up with a little poking. The waterproof vinyl outside of the bedroll was covered by a thin layer of snow. More snow was falling. By the light, it seemed to be early morning. Brrrrr. Gus was right. It was cold.

         Gus looked up at him with Brian's beautiful chocolate brown eyes with the innocence that Brian had lost, had had stolen, forever. "I knnnooooow I shoulda, Papa, but like I said I needed to give you my bodies heat and anyway it was getting dark and it was really cold. Don't worry, Papa, see? He pulled the bedroll down again and Justin saw that he sported pajama bottoms with the Cookie Monster emblazoned over and over all over them. "I had to take off your clothes but I put on my Cookie Monster pants so we wouldn't both be nekkee. They said it was an - an -  merge-cee. Did I help you, Papa? Are you warm again? Did I help you with my bodies heat?"

         "Yes," Justin said kindly, "Yes, you helped me. You did exactly the right thing." He smiled down at his little boy and his heart almost burst with love for his sweet angel. Gus smiled back contentedly and snuggled back into the furry warmth.

         "Justin frowned. He tried to think how long he had been out for and couldn't figure it out. "But Gus. Who told you it was an emergency? How did you know what to do here?"

         "Oh," yawned Gus, "The crows helped me," He started to drowse off again.

         "Gus! What do you mean?" Justin asked.

         Gus sighed and explained, "The two crows. Jack and Jacques. They helped me find big wood and keep the fire going and told me to take your clothes off or you'd die. They're crows, Papa, and big." He yawned. "I think Jack likes to be called a raven. Can I have something to eat before I sleep again Papa? I'm awfully hungry."

         Justin stared wide-eyed and disbelieving throughout the speech. He felt sure that Gus was making things up but then where would be have heard a word like raven? Justin felt sure neither he nor Bri had ever taught him that word. They would have only called them crows.

         Then he started and jumped into action. Keeping himself covered, he reached over for a stick and jabbed at the fire. The log collapsed completely and as he thought, the embers only needed stirring up to have hungry flames flare up once again. He put the stick and a few other newer pieces in to burn and reached for his pack. He found a pack of jerky and tore it open. He split it open and gave half to Gus.

         "OK Gus, eat this for now. I want you to snuggle under the covers and eat it and maybe go back to sleep for a bit but you have to promise not to look out until I tell you. All right?'

         "Can I be a turtle, Papa?" Gus asked.

         Justin ruffled his hair and missed Bri so much that it hurt. "Sure buddy. You can be a turtle."

         "Yaaayy!" And giggling in boyish glee, Gus burrowed into the sack and wiggled around in what he imagined a shell must seem like to turtle, a safe home, warm and impenetrable.

         Justin jumped out, bare ass naked, staying close to the fire and at the same time watching for Gus. Quickly, he rummaged in his pack again and found a flannel shirt and a change of pants. He also cleared the snow from the bedroll and put on some socks. He felt for his boots but they were still soaking wet on the inside. He bent them over facing the fire, hoping the warmth would help to dry them more quickly but he really wished he had some newspaper to stuff them with. He checked Gus' boots. Damp but not as bad as his.

         "Gus, you can come out now!" he called. Gus poked his head out.

         "Gus, I need your help. I need you to put on some clothes and a jacket and your boots and go fill this pot with clean snow and then bring it back here and I'll make soup and you can warm up again, OK buddy?"

         "OK, Papa," sighed Gus, putting on the clothes Justin handed him. He had really hoped he could sleep a while longer but his hunger was overwhelming that desire even more. He had already finished his share of the jerky.

         When he was dressed he put on his boots. Ugh! That felt horrible! All damp and cold, like ice with every step.

         "Ohhh, Papa, that's awful, it's so cold!"

         "I know Gus! But mine are even wetter and I just need some snow and then you can put your feet up to the fire until they're dry again, OK?"

         "OK, Papa, I'll be right back!" Gus crawled out of the fort. It was still snowing thickly the wind had died down and the forest was silent and still as a grave.  Gus went over to a certain spot and filled the pot to the brim and overflowing. Then he hurried back. He did not like the feeling f being the last little boy on Earth and the silence that was as vast and deep as the ocean. He crawled back through the branches and was glad to be inside the sheltered fort once again.

         Meanwhile, Justin had unpacked a flat wire mesh that had four legs that were on hinges that could bend diagonally toward the top so that the whole thing was flattened or bend outwards and be a little table. Justin had unfolded it and put the little wire table over the fire and it became a little stove.  He put the pot of snow on the burner and they sat down to wait for it to melt and boil.

         "Gus, I'm afraid we're going to be here a while. I don't know how long it's going to take for my boots to dry out and the clothes are going to be a while as well if they can't be closer to the fire."

         "Oh. What are we going to do, Papa?"

         "I don't know. If we had some newspaper we could dry out our boots faster and if I had a line of rope I could hang our clothes over the fire but as it is," He sighed. "We're stuck."

         "I know!" exclaimed Gus, "Let's ask the ravens to help us!"

         Gus, who are these ravens, you keep going on about? You know birds can't really talk, right?"

         "Right...." Said Gus, "Just like it can never be summer in one yard all the time right?"

         Justin's eyes widened. That shut him up for a few minutes.

         "Jack! Jacques! Are you there? Are you there?" Gus called.

         There was a fluttering in the branches above, a whirring of wings, and the two ravens fluttered down to the ground and perched on a chunk of wood.

         "Well, well, well! Look who's awake at last!" said the first raven.

         "And how are you, little Gus?" asked the second raven.

         "I'm fine," said Gus.

         Justin was dumbfounded with astonishment.

         "And how are you?" asked the first one, "I'm Jack."

         Justin was still too overcome to speak. Then he felt a sharp jab from a small hand in his side and he blurted, "Fine! I'm -fine...I'm sorry! I've never met a talking bird before."

         "Not just a talking bird! I'm here as well! I'm Jacques!" said Jacques.

         Justin kindly acknowledged him too.

         "We spend a lot of time in the village to the north of here. So we picked up a lot of the human language. Alas no one has bothered to learn our raven language. I don't suppose you know it? It would make things a lot easier on our part if you did."

         "I'm sorry, I don't," said Justin.

         "Ahhh, well," said Jack.

         "Gus told me you helped him out quite a bit last night. Thank you."

         The ravens made quite a noise cawing their ‘your welcomes'.

         "I'm sorry, you said there's a village near here. And to the north. Was that where the smoke we saw was coming from?"

         "Well, I don't know!" said Jack, "You can see smoke almost anywhere."

         "But if you did see it to the north, that was probably from the village," said Jacques.

         "What can you tell us about it?" asked Justin.

         "Well, it's white and billowy," said Jack.

         "It's rather stinky if you fly through it," said Jacques.

         Gus giggled.

         "Not the smoke! What can you tell me about the town!" asked Justin in exasperation.

         "Ohhh, a great deal, a great deal!" said Jack and Jacques cawed raucously and nodded in agreement.

         There was a silence.

         "Well??" asked Justin.

         "Well what?" asked Jack.

         "Tell us!"

         "Ohhhh! Ohhh! To be sure! To be sure! Well, the town's name is Spitzburghen. The richest, most powerful family there is called the Kemps. They are very sad right now because their son Jason has run away. The Kemps have offered a vast reward for the return, or if he will not or is unable to return, the location and fate of their son. Many people have tried to locate him but all have failed."

         "Oh, how awful!" said Gus.

         "Indeed! The Sheriff of the town is called Stockwell. He's crooked. He has a deputy named Rickert. They're both as shady as they come but they hide it well. They make out as if they are shining beacons of the community and worse yet, Stockwell wants to become mayor of Spitzburghen. There's an election next week."

         "Stockwell!? And Rickert!?" Justin breathed in horror. His mind whirled. It couldn't be the same two from Pittsburgh....could it? He thought Stockwell was locked up. He thought Rickert was dead. Could they have escaped their fates somehow!? And Jason...Kemp?? Justin felt as if he'd dropped into the Twilight Zone. Well, I mean, even more so than before. And he made up his mind.

         "We've got to find him! And we've got to hurry! Or I know where he'll eventually be found! Dead in a dumpster!"

         "Dead! Oh no, Papa!" Gus began to cry.

         "Shhhhhh! Shhhh! It's all right Gus!" Justin enfolded Gus into a hug, "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen!" Justin said confidently.

         "Really, Papa!?" asked Gus. He sniffled.

         "Really. Now don't you worry, sweetheart." And Gus smiled so sweetly at him, he thought his heart would burst with love.

         By this time the snow had melted to about half a pot of water and Justin poured in one of the freeze dried food packets. Soon, the vegetables and powdered broth soaked up the water and the delicious smell of soup filled the little glade.

         "Yeah Gus, don't worry!" said Jack, "Besides, we know where he is! And he's fine!"

         Justin did a double take. "You know! Well where is he!? Tell us!"

         "We'll do better than that! We'll take you to him! We visit him all the time and bring him bread and meat every day."

         "Bread and meat? Why do you do that?" asked Gus curiously.

         "I don't know," Jacques said, "It just feels like the right thing to do...You know?"

         "The right thing to do!!" Justin sputtered, "What about telling someone where he is! How about that as the right thing to do?"

         "Nobody's asked us before."

         "That shouldn't matter! Well, you're going to help us rescue him!!"

         "Too be sure! Too be sure! We'll do what we can!" Jack and Jacques agreed.

         "Good. Well the first thing we need to be able to do is get out of here. Can you birds fly to the town and scavenge up a newspaper and a piece of rope, long enough to tie across this glade? We need to dry our clothes."

         "To be sure! To be sure! We can get the things you seek!" squawked the birds. And they flew up and out of the little clearing.

JGJGJGJGJGJGJG

         Gus and Justin were just finishing up their soup when the whirring of wings signalled Jack and Jacques' return. Jack carried a folded up newspaper in his beak and Jacques had several pieces of rope in his beak.

         "I'm sorry," Jacques apologized, "I wasn't able to find the right size so I brought you several."

         "No problem," said Justin, He deftly tied the ends together and in no time the several small pieces of rope became one long piece. He tied the ends to tree trunks and made sure the rope was stretched tightly over the fire. He hung their still damp jackets and a few of their hats over the fire to begin with.

         Justin also took the paper from Jack and thanked him as well. It was called the Spitzburghen Star and the date on it was Dec 9, 2010.

         "Goodness, so much time gone! I've got to find a phone first thing. Your mamas and Nana must be out of their heads with worry."

         Secretly, Justin worried that the munchers were going to be terribly angry as well. But it couldn't be helped. He had had a judgment call to make and he made it, good or bad.

         "Papa, are we gonna miss Christmas?" Gus asked in a small voice, his eyes going wide and glassy with tears.

         "Now you listen to me, Gus Taylor-Kinney," Justin said firmly, "We are NOT going to miss Christmas. We are going to find your Daddy and bring him home and if -if, mind you! - it takes a little longer than Christmas, we will have it anyway and celebrate as best we can and not rest until we find him. And when we do, we will have another Christmas all over again. Remember Gus, Christmas is just a day. It's what you do with that day and with every other day that makes it special. OK?"

         "Does that mean we still get presents?" Gus asked. He didn't really understand.

         "Yes, my monkey! We'll all still get presents!" Justin tickled Gus and Gus shrieked with laughter.

         "OK, Gus, get back into the bedroll and take a nap, OK? Papa's going to read the paper and do some planning."

         "OK, Papa!" Full of soup, happy and content and at last, Gus folded himself into the bedroll and promptly fell asleep.

         Justin quickly opened the paper to the classifieds and took every ad and non-essential part of the paper and wadded those bits up and stuffed them inside his boots and then Gus' boots. There. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

         Then he had a look at the rest of the paper. There was a front page story about the upcoming election. Justin eyes widened and his throat closed up. A piece of his soul froze colder than he had the night before. It was insane. It was horrible. It was impossible.

         It was them. Stockwell and Rickert, staring out at him from the front-page, smiling toothpaste grins that were sweet as saccharine and fake as dentures. How was this possible? He thought Rickert had committed suicide. But really, all that they had known about that was an "official statement" They had never (and never wanted to) seen a body. Apparently, it had all been faked.

         Well, whatever the case, there they were, large as life and twice as ugly. And up to their same old tricks, trying to become mayor. And Justin knew it was up to him to stop them.

         Justin flipped a few pages and read the story about the Kemps. He got acquainted with the parents through their photo and through their grief at losing their boy. They were offering 10,000 florens?? and a car as a reward.

         A car! Justin's mouth fairly watered at the prospect of using a car to put some real distance north and get to Bri as soon as possible.

          There was a picture of a 10 year old boy staring out at him, obviously Jason Kemp.

         "Is this him?" he asked the birds.

         "Yes, but that's an old picture. Jason is sixteen now," answered Jack

         "Sixteeen! Why on earth would they post such an old picture? The answer came slowly but obviously. They had no recent picture. Hmmmm. Perhaps there was more to this family drama that met the eye...and the ink.

         Justin flipped through the rest of the news but it was all inconsequential. So eventually, he folded up the page that had the Kemp's particulars, and then rolled and twisted half of the rest of it into a tight paper log and put it on the fire. The hats were dry so he replaced them with their mittens.

         After that there was nothing to do but wait.  When Gus woke up, Justin sent him for more snow and although his boots were only half dry, he had Jack lead him to the fallen tree where he and Gus dragged home more firewood on pine branches. When they got back, he stuffed their boots with more newspaper and burned the rest.

         Their coats were dry at last. Justin replaced them with his shirt and wet jeans and socks. And they waited.

         It began to get dark. Justin made another batch of soup. They stayed near the fire and sang campfire songs. And they waited.

         As before, Justin poured their soup into their thermoses and they drank them out of the cup/covers. They unrolled Gus' smaller bedroll and Justin put Gus to bed. Then, in the dark, by the only light of the campfire, he waited.

         And all the time he waited he thought of what he was going to do.

         At last, he removed his dry clothes, packed them and hung up the remainder of their wet clothes, put a big hunk of wood on the fire and went to bed.

         The next morning everything was dry. In great joy, they packed everything up. Justin untied the rope and packed it. He had a hunch they might need it again. They tossed the now soggy wads of newspaper from their boots on the fire and put on their now warm and dry boots. The soggy newspaper smoked heavily but still burned. The rolled up their bedrolls and attached them back to the backpacks. They put on their now dry jackets and mittens and things (although they did smell heavily of smoke) and put out the fire. For good measure, Justin put a big dollop of snow on it.

         Then they crawled out of the glade for the last time and with a raven on each of their shoulders, the two birds guided them to the northern edge of the forest.

TBC