Read The Yeti Uprising: An IPMA Adventure for Christmas 2013 Page 17
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About ten minutes later, all four of the CCV’s doors had been opened, an agent entering each of the front doors and Josh and Hattie entering opposing rear doors. Even despite the nervous sick event Josh had had, and several concerned comments from Hattie’s mother and both agents had been squelched and chalked up to something he ate on his pizza earlier, it was quite apparent that Hattie wasn’t warming up to Josh as much as he might be to her. She wanted to sit in the seats as far from him as possible.
In the front, Bartholomew and Samuel were bringing up their maps and mumbling about routes to take. Bartholomew mentioned something about not really needing to track the aural trail much anymore if the Yeti were really heading where they thought they were. But Josh couldn’t catch much of it, because as the CCV backed out of Hattie’s drive and then on to the state route heading north again, Hattie herself slapped her hands down on her lap and turned violently to Josh to interrogate.
“So!” she started. “Tell me what you know about these critters.”
Hattie’s accent was funny and interesting at the same time. Josh found himself dazed slightly by her tone and her question before he could respond. But eventually he got out what little he felt he had learned so far, including some of the things he’d been able to glean off of Peter during their conversations on the way up to East Selkirk so far. Hattie was apparently unimpressed.
“Weeeelll…” She began with her own story. And then she proceeded to detail her past six years of Yeti observation and discoveries she had made. Most of them didn’t seem like a whole lot more interesting or informational than his own single experience. But she did seem to be able to see through their glimmer, whatever it really was, like he could. And, since being contacted by Agent Jackson Davison and Peter Samuel as his assistant last year, she’s been filing reports of any Yeti evidence she’s encountered or tracking she had performed. Apparently about two weeks earlier she’d seen an increase in the number of Yeti passing by their farm house on their way north. She’d enrolled her mother and convinced the IPMA that Mom could be trusted with more information. So, her mother’s apparent casualness at Peter’s arrival on their door step was based on packet of information she’d only just received not that long ago. Hattie implied, though she didn’t confirm, that she and/or her family were being paid a small stipend for assisting in the Yeti watch. At that, Josh wondered if he and his family might be offered the same deal eventually and he redoubled his resolve to do a good job for Peter.
“But how do you think we’re supposed to help if the Yeti are taking over the North Pole?” Josh asked towards the end.
The two agents in the front seat had stopped talking and planning and were listening in. Josh had a moment to notice their little amber dot was chasing up the side of Lake Winnipeg at a fairly high rate of speed. Checking the other gauges, indeed the big CCV was rolling along around 200 miles per hour again, the last couple digits flicking up and down too rapidly to read well, with the first and second digits occasionally dipping into the 190’s. The nervous feeling returned slightly to Josh’s belly.
“Well, like we said, we may just need the extra hands to be real honest,” Bartholomew responded. He seemed to be perking up a bit, perhaps even becoming a little excited. “But there is one more person we’re going to pick up before we get there.
Conversation died down. Hattie had pulled out a tablet of some kind and had at first tapped into the CCV’s wireless network and pretended to do a little research on Yeti. But eventually she just relaxed, leaning back into the big leather seat and read an ebook she’d downloaded. Peter turned on a little music to keep Josh satisfied. And Bartholomew grumped and sighed heavily at his assessment of something or other on the horizon every few minutes.
The horizon itself was becoming extremely monotonous. It was no wonder they were able to move so quickly. It seemed like nothing but miles of snow and frozen-over lakes for most of the trip. The sun settled pretty quickly and Josh enjoyed the pink and orange reflections both on the parting clouds and on the ice and snow.
Eventually, it seemed there was barely a soul to be found in all directions. Hattie caught him looking and asked about it.
“This is basically First Nations’ land,” she replied.
“First Nations?” Josh asked a little confused.
“Oui! You know…like…’Indians’ I think you call them in the US, don’t you? Only, they don’t like that here.”
“Well, we mostly call them Native Americans now. But why don’t they like being called Indians?” Josh asked innocently.
“Think about it,” Hattie said knowingly. “This isn’t India, now is it?”
Josh sat back in his seat and pondered it a bit. He had in his mind a picture of a stereotypical Eskimo dress on a Native American and wondered if that image was really truly representative. He wondered what they did out in the open land for survival and guessed they probably did have some small towns and such, but Peter was just driving through vacant lands to avoid being noticed, even in the shimmered cloak on the CCV.
“Hey Peter, have we crossed into Nunavut territory yet?” Hattie asked loudly.
“Just barely. We’re making good time but we’re going to have to camp tonight again,” the agent replied.
Hattie nodded and turned back to Josh, “Most of the people in this territory are Inuit and First Nations. There’s a couple different bands I think.”
“Bands?”
“You know…like tribes. Only don’t say that either if we meet any of them. It’s kind of considered rude. They speak Inuktitut a lot of them. But most also speak either French or English I think,” Hattie lectured.
“I doubt we’re going to meet any of them, Hattie. We’ve got to get to the North Pole ASAP,” Bartholomew interjected. “Do either of you two realize what happens if the Yeti have really pulled of a coup at the North Pole?”
The two teens looked at each other and then shook their heads in silence as Bartholomew turned back to look at them.
“Well…let’s just say there will be a lot of kids dissatisfied with Santa Claus this year.”
Josh hadn’t thought of that. Apparently, neither had Hattie. They sat quietly, being rocked slightly by the big CCV as it sometimes rolled over larger bumps or took minor jumps at high speed. But it wasn’t long before Hattie picked up her tablet and became immersed again.