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+ 7	Don't get an Avalanche angry in Alaska
+ 7	A Cold Case
+ 5	Chapter 2 of Jacqueline Pearl
+ 7	Chapter 1 of Jacqueline Pearl

Don't get an Avalanche angry in Alaska

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Created on 1-27-07

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Story Rating G

The day was half over when Jeanne woke from her sleep, she was warm and the sun beamed down on her through the open window. Stretching she felt the rush of cool air run through the opened doors of the cabin as the front door closed behind someone. Pulling herself from the warm bed she pulled on her heavy fleece robe and thick moccasins to investigate. The sound of someone stomping on the front mat was heard along with a mumble that was easily recognized to Jeanne. Closing the bedroom door behind her she weaved through the house. She walked to the front door which was situated between the kitchen and the living room of a spacious cabin indeed. There Charlotte was stomping the ice from her boots and pulling off her gloves blood dripping from them warmly. “Get another caribou?” Jeanne asked as the small ice particles ricocheted off her boots and across the floor. “I ran into a pack of rabid wolves!” Charlotte exploded, “There’s a good ten of them out there and it’s breeding season too!” Jeanne stepped back as Charlotte showed her the hand under her left glove, it was pinched and broken but not cut. Charlotte was frightening when she was angry; there was a certain fury about her that would remind anyone of an overwhelming snowstorm or avalanche. “Did you shoot them, Charlie?” “I couldn’t,” she said slamming her good hand against the wall angrily. Jumping at Charlotte's reaction to the question, Jeanne stammered, “W-why not?” “There’s a freakin’ camera crew out there for National Geographic.” She said kicking off her boots and cradling her broken hand. “How did you get blood on you?” Jeanne asked knowing that National Geographic was invited to explore Alaska for a three-week solid period. Charlotte glared at her roommate and trudged past her to the refrigerator where she flung open the freezer door and stuck her left hand in the ice box. “They got Brie,” she stated softness under her fury. Brie was Charlotte’s only female husky dog, a trooper and protector more than the male dogs were. Brie was nearly a year old by that time and though she was young she learned quickly and wasn’t going to be easy to replace. She had had green eyes and a coat the color of soft Alaskan sands. Charlotte had saved the pup when she was born from the vicious end she was set for by the former owner. Female dogs were not very profitable to own, they were prone to wandering away and getting pregnant by wolves, making them wild. “Charlie, I’m really sorry.” Jeanne tried, reaching for her roommate’s shoulder for comfort but Charlotte snapped. “I can never replace that pup,” she said brutally, “She was protecting me, and I didn’t even see those damn rascals coming after me. She got a face full of wolf teeth before I even got my knife from my pocket. After her eyes went there was nothing I could do but get outta there.” “Charlie,” Jeanne said tears coming to her eyes. Though Jeanne didn’t like too many of Charlotte’s huskies she did enjoy Brie’s company, the only husky Charlotte let Jeanne cuddle. “I’ll call Mr. Munson if you want, he should have a new litter by now.” “It’s not worth it,” Charlotte said shedding her coat and over jacket. “I’ll call him anyway,” Jeanne said knowing that Charlotte needed some alone time. “If he has a new litter I’ll buy a female for us, your birthday is just around the corner, you know.” Charlotte silently shed her long sleeve shirt and revealed her bruised arm and shoulder. Her entire left side was either purple or blue and a rib under her bra stuck out nearly coming from the skin itself. Jeanne sighed, “I’ll call Dr. Rutland too.” Charlotte didn’t mind as she closed the freezer and striped herself of her hunting clothes and warm fleece sweats. She wore only shorts and a tank top roaming the house close to breaking something or breaking down. “Hello, yes, I would like to schedule an appointment,” Jeanne said as Rutland’s secretary Ingrid Benson answered the phone at his office. “Yes, I would say it’s an emergency.” Charlotte slammed her right fist against the wall again and a painting on the conjoining wall tumbled to the ground. She kicked the painting and finally resolved to slumping on the couch and poking at the fireplace with a fire pick. “As soon as possible would be good,” Jeanne confirmed in the phone. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.” She ended the conversation and grabbed her keys from the key ring hooked under the phone. Jeanne walked slowly and dismally back to her room and changed into her jeans and sweater layered over two shirts. She sighed as the sound of a log being rolled into the fire resounded throughout the house. Hopping into her red heels and exciting the house into the frosty but sunny afternoon she unlocked her jeep and thrust the keys into the ignition. Turning the keys the jeep wouldn’t start and she remembered she hadn’t filled it with gas when she was heading home for a long weekend off of work. Heaving a long sigh she tucked the keys in her pocket and slammed the jeep door. As she made her way back to the cabin door she spotted Charlotte’s four-wheeler covered by a tarp and altered her course to take a sneak peek at the dog. Lifting the camouflage tarp she saw a gruesome sight which made her shriek and cover her face. There lay Brie, her face mutilated and her left side completely torn apart. “What’s wrong?” asked Bronson from a Tahoe that had just weaved around the bend that led to Anchorage from the cabin. Jeanne smiled at him even though what she had seen would normally leave her in tears and fitful nightmares. “Hello Deputy, what are you doing out here?” “Doctor Rutland called me and told me that you had called.” Bronson said as if that explained everything. “So you decided to drive down here?” she implied as he pulled his Tahoe next to her jeep. “I was worried,” he explained, “Neither of you ever call Rutland very often. What seems to be the matter anyway?” Jeanne smiled as he turned off his Tahoe and hopped out, dressed in thick jeans, boots, flannel and a beanie hat covering his ears. She waited for him to walk up to her before she spoke again the silence of Alaska floating around them. “Take a look at this,” Jeanne said closing her eyes as she lifted the tarp for him to see. Bronson jumped back at the sight beneath the tarp, “What happened to it?” Jeanne let the tarp cover the gruesome sight again and opened her eyes to Bronson’s shocked face. “That’s Brie, Charlie’s favorite husky. She got attacked whilst out in the woods hunting for another caribou. Brie stood between her and the wolves.” “Wolves?” Bronson asked, “They normally don’t attack people.” “Charlie said these had rabies and she didn’t kill them for evidence because there was a crew from National Geographic romping around.” Jeanne explained, “Charlie is brutally hurt all down her left side and angrier than an avalanche. My jeep won’t start so I can’t take her to Rutland after all.” “I’ll take you both,” Bronson said, “just get her out of the house and we’ll be in good shape.” Jeanne and Bronson both headed for the cabin door. Opening it Jeanne entered the cabin where the smell of a freshly made fire warmed her bones and invited Bronson inside. “Charlie, c’mon let’s go.” Jeanne said hanging her keys under the phone. Charlotte appeared still wearing her tank top and shorts. “Rutland is gonna suck us dry,” she complained slipping on the boots she had kicked off before. “I can’t make enough money to afford these types of injuries.” Bronson was wide-eyed at her body. It was clear she had been beaten badly and there were evident wolf bite marks on her. She slipped on a coat and smiled pleasantly at Bronson who hadn’t shifted his attention from her bruises and clearly broken bones. “Good afternoon, deputy, whatever are you doing out here, off duty?” “Are you in pain?” he asked extremely concerned. Charlotte laughed, “I could go for some painkillers right about now.” “Bronson said we could get a ride from him to Rutland,” Jeanne said as they left the cabin locking the door behind them. “My jeep is clean out of gas.” “Alright ship me out to the doc,” Charlotte said hopping into the back of the Tahoe SUV. She made herself comfortable to the expense of the clean leather interior. Jeanne took the passenger side and Bronson sat behind the wheel starting and driving the Tahoe successfully into Anchorage. “What happened to you, anyway?” Bronson asked after a silence had begun pounding in everyone’s ears. “I got in a fight with Jeanne, she’s a beast.” Charlotte said. Jeanne laughed and Bronson raised his eyebrows and sighed pulling the SUV around a corner. “I got attacked by rabid wolves, if you must know.” Charlotte finally answered, “There were nearly ten of them and they got the better of me but got the worst of Brie. She was the only one of my three dogs to stand her ground.” “Rabid?” Bronson pondered, “We haven’t had rabid anything for a long time.” “I would love for it to have stayed that way,” she answered cringing as they pulled into the parking lot. There were three cars parked there and two were Rutland and Ingrid’s. Charlotte picked a pair of handcuffs and a bulletproof vest that was lying under the backseat and flipped them over. “Unfortunately someone got them a bad case of rabies.” “Someone?” Bronson said turning off the engine and peering at her, “animals get rabies from other animals, not by people.” “I think someone intentionally gave them rabies.” Charlotte stated pulling her door open and replacing the handcuffs and vest where she had found them. Bronson helped Jeanne out and the two followed Charlotte into the doctor’s office where they were greeted cheerily by Ingrid. She was wearing her thin glasses and her toothy grin. Ingrid was neither graceful nor lovely; she had a way of making someone want to see the doctor or leave quicker than usual. “Rutland is waiting for you Charlie,” she said her voice thick as syrup, “He says he’s going to do more than cure you of your new injuries.” Charlotte glanced at Jeanne who followed tentatively with Bronson trailing. They entered a rather large room with a single examining table and Rutland leaning over a small desk examining something closely. Rutland was a tall man, reaching nearly 6’4” with his short blonde hair and awkward good manners he was a normal city doctor which made him stand out against the Anchorage perspective. He owned the practice he worked for and had three or four other doctors working for him. “Good afternoon doc,” Charlotte said plopping her bruised self on the examining table. Rutland turned around softly and smiled at the three before him, “Good afternoon, all.” He sat in his small round rolling chair and offered the two regular stationary chairs to Jeanne and Bronson. “I haven’t seen you, Charlie, for nearly eight months,” Rutland started taking a good look at her bruises as she shed her coat and shaking his head. “What fiasco have you gotten into now?” “I got attacked by wolves, believe it or not.” She stated watching as Rutland put the blood pressure sleeve on her right arm. “Wolves?” Rutland asked placing his stethoscope under the sleeve, “Where did this happen?” “About a mile from my cabin,” She stated as he measured and wrote down her blood pressure. “Have you been keeping active, Charlie?” Rutland inquired, pressing his stethoscope against her chest and requesting her to breath. “Always,” She said plainly, “running around town, selling skins, dogs, furniture and the like. In fact, I’m going to start selling those old rocking chairs you like; I’ll let you buy one off me cheap.” “No thanks,” Rutland said pressing the stethoscope to her back and requesting her to breath once again. “How often do you drink?” “Not much, I must admit. Miss Jeanne is keeping me under her tight leash; I get to drink at Tovar Tavern once a week and I don’t get drunk, mind you.” Charlotte said smiling cutely at her sidekick who smiled back. “Good for you Jeanne,” the doctor applauded as he took the small instruments from the wall and began examining Charlotte’s ears and eyes. “How often do you smoke?” “I don’t smoke,” Charlotte said, “Who told you I smoke?” “No one, it’s just I smell smoke on you.” “That’s because she’s been starting the fireplace,” Jeanne stated before saying, “I’m going to use to ladies room.” Jeanne got up and left closing the door silently behind her. Rutland looked at Charlotte and raised an eyebrow, “Why were you angry?” directing his question gingerly to her. “The wolves killed my Brie,” She stated clenching her teeth and right fist. “I’m sorry,” Rutland said finishing checking her eyes and ears. He sighed, “Let’s take a look at your injuries.” Moving to her left side he winced at her shoulder which had taken a great beating from a few mouthfuls of teeth. “Hey Bronson,” Charlotte said cringing as Rutland lifted her wrist, “why don’t you take Jeanne out to eat?” “What?” Bronson asked suddenly alert. “She hasn’t eaten a thing yet and I think she saw Brie so she might not have an appetite for meat for a while. Take her to Tovar Tavern and serve her anything without alcohol or she’ll get sick.” She stated smiling, “She really likes the chicken sandwiches though.” Bronson stood, “Why?”“Jeanne needs a friend who won’t drag her off to the doctor as soon as send her off to work.” Charlotte said, “You can be that friend.” Almost bashfully Bronson left the room and waited in the hall for Jeanne to finish in the bathroom. When she came out and adjusted her coat she saw Bronson his hands in his pockets waiting anxiously for her. “How’s it going in there?” Jeanne asked. “Can’t really tell,” Bronson said as she walked slowly toward him, “would you like to grab a bite to eat while she gets examined?” Jeanne looked twice at Bronson before seeing the honesty in his smile, “I would like that.” Exiting the doctor’s office and climbing into Bronson’s Tahoe the two headed off into the lifting afternoon together. There was only a thin layer of snow on the ground and none on buildings or trees. Jeanne played with a loose string on her coat thinking about Charlotte in the doctor’s office in her condition. “Last time we went to the doctor for Charlie,” Jeanne said just to make conversation, “it was because she had been shot by a new hunter in her forest. He apologized while she bled in the snow and she nearly strangled him when he sought her out for an apology.” She laughed, “It was the first and last time I went hunting with her.” “You don’t like hunting?” Bronson inquired intrigued. “I’m not sure, every time I get the courage to try it something comes up.” Bronson turned into the parking lot across from Tovar Tavern, “I’m not a real fan of hunting either.” Jeanne was helped from the Tahoe and they made their way across the slushy street to Tovar Tavern a good number of cars parked in that parking lot. A few of the cars had people sleeping in them. They had been drinking the night before and had gotten their keys taken from them either by a police officer of the bartenders. That way they couldn’t drive drunk on the snowy nights of Alaska. Entering the Tavern Jeanne smiled at the newest bartender who had met her the other night when Charlotte brought her in to introduce them. “Hello Jed,” she said. “Hi Jeanne,” he said and nodded at Bronson, “Deputy.” The Tavern was rather dark lit by only a few hanging lights and many neon signs. Jed asked what their orders would be and Bronson offered to order for both. Kindly Jeanne agreed thinking if Charlotte was hungry lying in the doctor’s chair being bandaged and probably given antibiotics galore. He ordered what Charlotte had told him to order for her and got another for himself followed by Coca-Cola for both. Jeanne leaned against the bar and sighed. “Are you wondering about Charlie?” Bronson asked as Jed left with their order to tell the chefs in the kitchen. “Yes,” she answered, “sometimes she scares me so much I think I should find a therapist or something.” “I bet,” Bronson said, “she is rather reckless.” “I know, but I couldn’t imagine living without her.” “You’ve known her for a long time?” Jed returned with their drinks and continued to clean the bar as another couple entered. Jeanne sipped her drink and smiled. “I’ve known Charlie since the very first day I moved to Alaska, when I was ten.” Jeanne smiled cutely in remembrance. “My parents had gotten tired of warm states so they decided to try out Alaska their ‘Pot of Gold.’ When we got here they put me in school and I got picked on the first day, like every ‘new kid’ does.” “Let me guess: Charlie stood up for you?” “You got it; she pounded this guy for calling me ugly. She told me, ‘you stick with me, okay?’” Jeanne smiled pleasantly, “She was my hero and best friend until the day when my parents wanted to leave. “You moved away?” “No, Charlie and her grandfather somehow persuaded them to let me stay and live with them. I don’t know how they did it but thanks to them I’ve been living a good life here in Alaska.” “What happened to your parents?” asked Bronson as their meals were placed before them. “They moved to California and my father got more involved in his alcoholism and my mother couldn’t deal with him any more. She divorced him and sent half of the money she got to me before she moved to Utah with her relatives. I don’t know about my father, last I heard he was being sent to AA meetings.” Jeanne cut her food into small pieces and began munching on them. “What’s Charlie’s story?” Bronson wondered out loud as he bit into his meal and was surprised at the great flavor. “You will have to ask her,” Jeanne confessed, “I’ve lived with her for nearly eight years now but I still don’t know everything there is.” “She’s secretive?” “No, she’s smart,” Jeanne tapped her temple with her finger and nodded, “She’s got something in her head that tells her how to protect herself. Plus after her grandfather died she’s been able to get away from questions simpler.” “I never met him,” Bronson said. “What a man,” she shook her head, “he died four days short of turning one hundred and three years old. Pure Native Alaskan and he had such a heart for anyone who could draw in breath.” The phone rang at the Tavern and Jed answered it, reading the caller ID first. “Yes, they are here,” he said and then listened intently. He turned to Bronson and held out the phone for him, “It’s for you deputy.” “Thank you.” He responded taking the wireless phone in his hand. “Hello?” he said hoping it wasn’t someone needing back-up for he had intentionally turned his radio down when they entered the tavern. It was Charlie, “Deputy what are you doing?!” “Uh, eating…” “Good Lord, get your butt over to the Vet Clinic A.S.A.P.” The phone called ended and Bronson pulled on his coat. “Who was that?” asked Jeanne, sad that he was preparing to leave. “Charlie,” he said shaking his head, “Want to come see what she’s gotten herself into this time?” “I sure do,” Bronson paid Jed and they left. The drive was short to the Clinic where they could see Charlie knocking on the door frantically. Bronson parked and Jeanne jumped from the car hurrying through the slushy snow in her red heels toward Charlie who hollered toward the Deputy.“Break down this door, Bronson,” She demanded, “He’s confessed it.” “Charlie, are you mad—?” He protested shutting the car door. “Maybe, but I got to see justice done,” she turned back to the door and tried to open it sanely, using the doorknob. “Open up!” “What is going on!?” asked Jeanne reaching her best friend and taking her arm, feeling the swollen bruise which she had been using to try and break down the door. “He did it,” Charlie said softening her rage for an instant, “Mr. Munson admitted to giving the wolves rabies.” “What?! Why would he do that?” Bronson asked coming between Charlie and the door, which had a dent in it where she had been throwing herself. “He’s insane,” she said, “he was experimenting and the asshole messed up.” Bronson called for back-up in his radio and then got the door open after a bit of struggling. Charlie was being held back by Jeanne as the door opened and all was dark inside. Though she had just been bandaged and put on medication Charlie was still fiery and unable to contain her rage as Bronson entered the Clinic calling for Mr. Munson. The back-up police car pulled up in the front and the three exited the empty Clinic. As they exited Charlie bolted off into the back alleys of the town without saying a word except, “Follow me.” “We have to follow her,” Jeanne insisted and Bronson spoke with the other officer about the situation. “Who?” the officer asked. “Charlie,” Jeanne looked up at Bronson pleadingly, “I know she is right, no matter how unorthodox, her intuition is astonishing.” Bronson took the risk and followed on foot while the officer and Jeanne drove slowly in the direction he had run all they while keeping contact via radio. There was emptiness about the Alaskan wilderness as they got out of town and turned to where Bronson was standing between Mr. Munson and Charlie. Charlie was swinging her arms toward Munson who was trying his best to get out of Bronson’s grip. “Let me go,” Munson said as Jeanne and the officer came from the car quickly. “I didn’t do anything, s-she…she tried to kill me…” “Yeah, unsuccessfully thanks to the Deputy!” Charlie threatened. “What’s going on here?” asked the officer as he was given the responsibility of reading Munson’s rights to him and handcuff him. “Deputy what is the charge?” “Poisoning an endangered species,” Bronson replied. “That’s a capitol offense,” the officer said matter-of-factly. He nodded and turned his full attention to the out of breathe Charlie shaking her head, “You should’ve let me beat him up a little,” she said, “I don’t lose fights.” “You need to rest,” Bronson said, “Let Jeanne, take care of you for once.” Munson looked tired from running and as he was shoved into the back seat of the police car he said, just loud enough to hear, “See you in court, Deputy.”

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