MUSH! - 7. Chapter 7

Kova brushed down the little white ash sled with a damp cloth and admired his handiwork in the warm yellow light of the workshop. It was only a small sled, designed to be run by a child with a single dog, maybe two as the kid got older, and he was looking forward to seeing the delight on her face. The little seven year-old and her parents were waiting out in the showroom for her birthday present to arrive. The big Burmese stuck his head out into the main shop to look for Lena. The child was waiting holding onto the collar of a pretty liver and white husky with bright eyes and a wagging tail.

“Lena? Could you grab me a number two X-harness. In yellow I reckon.” He took a single dog gang line and attached it to the curved brush bow, flicked a speck of probably imaginary dirt from the lacquered finish and picked up the little sled under one arm.

“Here.” Lena handed him the harness as he came through the doorway. “You do love to make a show outta these things brother-in-law of mine. I’ll let you finish up.”

“Daddy!” The little girl had the widest eyes as Kova put the sled down in front of her. “Oh Jenna isn’t it lovely!” The dog barked in agreement with her girl. “Our own sled!” Suddenly Kova found the child wrapped around his calf. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’ve got a harness and everything Rosie.” The father hugged his daughter hard and she beamed with delight. “And I’m sure if you’re very good Mr Sabaakax here will show you how to fit it properly.”

“Oh please sir!”

Kova laughed.

“This is your harness.” He turned to the dog, which stood wagging her tail. “Well technically it’s your harness hey little miss?” Kova held the harness up with both hands, one on the back of the collar, the other on the pulling loop. “You need to fit the collar first, and then get Jenna here to put her legs through these two loops. The padding will sit nicely over her chest and shoulders.” With smooth hands Kova began to harness the dog. She was pliant and obedient under his touch, as every dog with a brain was in the presence of a shifter. “This loop should sit right above her tail. Make sure all the straps are flat.” Kova hooked the clip from the single gang line onto the bonded and stitched pulling loop. “And now you’re all set.”

“Jenna! Jenna! We’re a real sled team now! Mush!” The little dog danced in the traces and Kova smiled happily. “I love this brush bow! I love these runners! I love this sled!” Soon enough Rosie was standing on the runners grinning like a mad fool.

“Mr Sabaakax the sled is beautiful.” Rosie’s mother stood with him by the cash desk and paid. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” Kova couldn’t help but grin. “We like to recruit new people to the sport.”

“You used to mush?”

“Yeah,” Kova nodded, “something like that.”

Kova had loved running, loved racing. He and his brother had run two-dog sled races all year round on sleds and three wheeled rigs. They had won plenty, and their father had been a great musher right up until the point where families, children, and Kanu moving to Minnesota had stopped them from running quite so regularly.

He saw the family off at the front door of the shop, girl and dog skidding about together in the snow, her parents watching happily. The father held out a little wedge of small bills to Kova.

“I saw the jar. For the race.”

“Thank you.”

On his way back through the shop, Kova rolled up the notes and stuffed them into the Ball Mason jar they had applied one of Seeba’s printed logos too.

“Jar’s getting full.”

It had been like that since the first day they’d reopened the shop. Not only did they have a jar and a poster at Sabaakax Sled’s, but there was another at Eternal Natural Jewellery, as well as the one Ukiuk had put up in the Fishery and Smokehouse, and everyone had been incredibly generous. People came up to them in the street on the way to work or to the shops with five dollars, ten dollars, two dollars, and always “for the team” and “for the race”. There were lots of kind smiles and people wishing them all well. Socco and the team were out pretty much all of the time, and every time they took the car out for an endurance run, people tried to run them down to give them money. But Kova knew it wasn’t enough. Sled racing was an expensive sport, and the kids were going to need all the help they could get.

Sighai arrived to accompany his wife for the afternoon while Lena sat down with the repairs that had been brought in. People who run their dogs as a hobby tended to spend a lot more money on their gear, often had it customised, and wanted it fixed when it got worn, rather than doing it themselves. Kova wiped sawdust from the workshop off his hands with a cotton rag and knocked on the desk.

“Are you good for the afternoon?

“Sure,” Sighai was looking over the stock list for the outdoor wear which they kept in store, “you know those idiots went out with Halleron Scot for a two day run? He’s only gone and signed them off as their sponsor.”

“You’ve got to get on board with this Sig.” Kova sighed and shook his head. “Both of your kids and your wife are running the race. Let it go. I’m out for lunch, got some things to do.”

The best place to do those things, Kova decided, was the IHOP, where he sat in a booth by himself and ordered the peaches and cream French toast breakfast and a bacon cheeseburger. Half way through the combined two-plate meal, he retrieved a small tablet computer from his jacket pocket, and set about sketching with the stylus. The team were going to need a new sled.

*

“What’s wrong with our current sled?” Socco had snapped. “She’s reliable, everyone knows how to fix her and using her won’t cost any extra money!”

“When did our sled become a girl?” Anysie had muttered from her curled up position on the sofa. She had an array of small plastic and metal tins around her, which she had been cleaning, ready for the receipt of paw ointment.

“That doesn’t matter.” Socco had snapped. “We can’t afford to buy a new sled. We’re just going to have to cope with what we have.”

“Well it’s not like you can run the little rig out there.” Mak’s input had made Socco growl.

“Why not? We don’t need a six foot sled. I won’t be sleeping in the bag.”

“Have you not seen the list of mandatory equipment? It’d never all fit in.”

“Let alone the fact we still don’t have any food.” Natu muttered.

“But Oki has meat coming in all the time!” Kova had watched his only nephew getting more and more frustrated.

“And we’re eating it all the time. We can’t run the Iditarod on basic rations.”

“Enough.” Ujarak’s voice cut through their squabbling. “Already the eleven of you are starting to see this as a list of problems and not as a whole thing. Be calm.”

There was a chorus of; “Sorry Gran-papa.”

“Now listen to what your uncle has to say. Remember he used to run too.”

Socco had taken a deep breath, and Kova watched his nephew calm down as Natu put an arm around him. Little Dinahei took his other hand, and though Mak glowered at him, and he wasn’t the only one, the atmosphere lifted. Kova didn’t really understand, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the specific ins and outs of how their little three-way worked, but Anysie told him the three of them were always sweet together, and they never seemed to fight. That was enough for him. Kova had always been a big believer in letting lay the happiness of other people.

“Sorry Kova. Why do we need a new sled?”

Kova had smiled, and ruffled the young man’s steel grey hair.

“Because your sled is great, but I can build you something better. Sabaakax Sleds is gonna be your first official sponsor. It’s up to you to get some more.”

“Hey, maybe we could get Bobby Hansen’s dad to sponsor us? Maybe he’ll give us money.” Cenai had sounded excited.

“You know… I think maybe we might need Mak to deal with that one…”

*

Kova looked down at his drawing and smiled, then ate another giant forkful of still warm French toast. He and Sighai had built the sled the team currently used, and it was in parts the same sled Sighai had used to pull with his father and sisters. They had run more deliveries then. The distances had been shorter but more frequent. When it had become clear the children were going to be forming a team, a big team, all of their own, Kova had redesigned the sled, given it a longer running base and better footpads. He and Sighai had used most of the parts off the old sled, and the team’s current running sled was made entirely from white ash and traditional knot work. But there was no way he was going to be taking parts off the current sled.

The new sled would be lighter, sleeker, and faster. It was all about power and strength to weight ratios. The little rig was a great machine, and it weighed next to nothing, welded and riveted out of aluminium tube with high density plastic runners, but there was no way that sort of construction was going to withstand the rigours of running the distances required of the Iditarod. The kids were going to need a sled which could take them all the way from Dawson City to Eagle and back again in just over a month’s time, as well as take them through the challenge of the Last Great Race. In all likelihood, the team would be running back pretty much the way they had come too.

Kova re drew the line of the top rail and the rear stanchion and started looking through the suppliers catalogue he’d installed a while back for materials. A composite sled seemed the best way to go, and Kova knew while Socco and several of the others were somewhat traditional, there were benefits to a lot of the new materials. Kova drew up a cutting list, placed the order, paid for his bill and made his way back to the shop. His daughter, Seeba and Mak were waiting for him.

“Hey there kids.” Kova put his head to one side. “I though y’all were out on a run today?”

“We got back about three hours ago.” Mak yawned, belatedly putting his hand over his mouth. “We ran most of the night, it was good.”

“And where did you go this time?” Kova couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous of their frequent trips. He missed racing and running in the harness.

“Up by Meadow Lakes and past the camp at Wasilla. We met loads of mushers and dogs.” Seeba smiled. “They all think we’re some special sort of crazy.”

Mak huffed.

“Socco doesn’t get on too well with most of the mushers though pop.” Anysie sighed. “Our glorious leader is way too busy thinking about the trail and his ‘best boys’ to pay too much attention to what humans have to say.”

“That’s as it should be, don’t worry. No one will think less of him, this racing stuff - it’s all about the dogs. So why do you guys need me?”

“Soc asked us to go out to Hansen’s place to try and drum up sponsorship. We’re running out of money.”

“Why isn’t he doing it?”

“He took the boys and Cenai with him out to the abattoir on Cordova Street to see if we can get sponsorship in the form of meat products.” Mak shook his head. “Gunnar might be a crack shot but the meat he gets us doesn’t last week to week training.”

“Don’t let Cenai hear you say that.” Seeba grinned. “They’re dating,” she mock-whispered.

“So I heard. What have you got there, Seeba?”

“New posters. Thought we’d put one in the window.” Seeba unrolled the thick matt paper to reveal the design. “What d’ya think?”

The poster showed a photograph of the team running at the bottom, and it was sort of faded and snow splattered. Further up into the white sky was a bold graphic image of Dinahei. The blue and white husky sat with his tail curled, wearing his bright blue harness and looking over his shoulder at the text. Seeba had captured him beautifully considering she had only used three colours in the print. The bold text on the left hand side of the poster read:

Official Sponsor

SABAAKAX SLED DOGS

In a second more cursive script the poster proclaimed:

Anchorage, AK

Running the Last Great Race on Earth

For the love of dogs

“I like it. Powerful.” Kova took the poster from his niece. “We’ll put it in the window. You got another one for Hansen if he says yes?”

“Uh huh.”

“Alright then, let’s go.”

Alaskan Pursuits was a big warehouse on the outskirts of town, north of the University. Hansen Senior had taken over the failing business a decade and half back and built up good clients and a good reputation. He was a firm and fair sort of guy, and he stocked good gear. The sorts of outdoor stores which people from Down Below frequented provided equipment and clothing promising protection from ‘all weathers’ and tended to be useless in actual Northern cold. The stuff stocked by Hansen was of good quality, and it was where all of the family went whenever they wanted or needed something which was not homemade.

Mak lead the route, wandering along the shelves, and stopped only to look at a pair of fleece lined and Kevlar padded jeans, running his short square fingernails over the rough fabric.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is part of the Sabaakax clan standing in my shop?” Hansen the younger was standing leaning against the shelving. Bobby grinned and clicked his tongue. “Hello Mak.”

“Hey Bobby.” Mak shook his hand warmly. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been better. I’d rather your cousin hadn’t beaten me by a hundred yards on Boxing Day.” Bobby was still grinning. “He’s a cheeky fucker, but his team ran fast, I’ll give them that. I hear tell he’s a madman and wants to race in the Iditarod.”

“That he is.” Seeba shook her head. “I think we might all be a bit mad.”

“So what’cha need? If Socco wants gear he’s sent people to the right place.”

“Actually,” Anysie took the poster off her cousin, “we were hoping to talk to your father about this.”

Bobby blinked.

“Pop’s in the office, go on through.”

Hansen Senior was stuck behind his desk with a laptop and a pile of receipts in front of him. His short hair stuck up on end and he looked frustrated. Kova recognised the expression of a man wrestling with the accounts.

“Daddy makes that face too.” Anysie chirruped. “Bobby said to come and see you.”

Hansen pushed the papers away with an expression of relief and snapped the laptop shut.

“You know, whether we take in ten dollars or a thousand, I hate making figures match up. It annoys me so.” He smiled at the assembled party. “Come on in and grab a seat if you can find one.”

Kova sat, along with Seeba, and Mak folded his arms and leant with one foot resting against the wall while Anysie hung on the back of her father’s chair. She may have been eight months older than the lilac masked huskie, but that didn’t mean she was more sensible.

“To what do I owe this delegation?”

Seeba explained, unrolling the poster, a spread of leaflets under her other hand. Mak interjected with a comment every now and then, and though he sounded terse, his attitude was positive. It made Kova smile to see his most vicious nephew softening slightly. Anysie smiled, and ended up standing with her hand on the shoulder of the girl she enjoyed so much.

That had been something had slipped easily under everyone’s radar. Dinahei, Socco and Natu had been a concern for years, and the family had spent well over a decade fighting and arguing about them, even though the boys themselves had apparently never had a single falling out. Mak and Kipa had begun their mating full of drama and general angst, and several people had not been keen on the idea of two second cousins who could breed mating with each other. But scent dictated the rules of the game, and there was nothing they could do. It had always confused Kova how quickly everyone had come to accepted the scent-mated relationship of Mak and Kipa, and yet so many people in his extended family were very vocal in their distaste for Socco’s relationship with his two lovers.

Anysie and Seeba though, had sort of just happened, and Kova still wasn’t sure their undefined relationship wasn’t simply an overabundance of familial affection. When asked, neither of them would comment about their bond, but more often than not, there were to be found together in a nest of blankets or snuggled on the sofa, in each other’s laps, giggling and being silly.

Kova looked sideways at his only child. He would have liked to have more, or to have grandchildren, but maybe it was not what the future held, and that was OK too. The children of the Sabaakax clan may have all had individual parents, but they had all been raised by everyone, and there had been times when Kova’s neighbours had assumed he and his wife had produced a prolific number of offspring. One thing was true enough; you were never lonely in a shifter family.

“Well now.” Hansen Senior sat forwards in his chair, his fingertips tracing the shape of Dinahei on the poster. “Sponsorship?”

“Yes sir.” Mak replied.

“I’ve had four mushers in here over the last week looking for sponsorship. I got Bobby to give them each a pair spare of gloves and sent them on their way.” He seemed to think about this. “But he did give Bobby a hiding in that race after Christmas right enough.”

“Mr Hansen.” Kova leant forwards in his chair. “Everyone around here knows you sell the best outdoor gear money can buy for use in the artic. Maybe the rest of America should know it too? How are your out of state shipping orders these days?”

Hansen grimaced and flicked through a stack of invoices without looking at them. He removed a thin wedge from the bottom and sighed.

“Not as numerous as I’d like.” Hansen dropped the order forms and folded his arms. “What are we looking at here? You want sponsorship, but what are you going to give me?”

“Socco hopes to be the fastest Rookie, which means he’ll be on TV cameras all over the country, and hopefully a bit on international coverage too. Team’s already getting loads of attention.” Mak was grinning.

“It’s ‘cause they’re so pretty.” Anysie chipped in.

“That’s all well and good. But…”

“Alright, so we’ll add your logo to the flyers we give out, Socco will name you as one of his official sponsors in all his speeches and stuff, and we’ll embroider your name and logo on the side of our sled bag.”

“Nice and big.” Seeba added.

“And if he does do well,” Kova grinned, “you get to brag your gear is good enough to send a Rookie to place in the Iditarod.”

Hansen seemed to consider this offer.

“And in return for all this lovely publicity, what do you want?”

There was a split second of silence.

“Two thousand dollars and a full set of gear for Socco.” Mak nodded. “And the pair of gloves you’ve given every other musher who came askin’.”

“Not a chance.” Hansen Senior shook his head. “But I like your gumption boy. I see why your cousin sent you. Tell you what: I’ll give you a thousand dollars and you can send in your musher for a full set of everything he needs. I’ll even throw in the good gloves and some really nice high quality boots too.” He gestured to the CCTV screens in the office. “And I’ll even let you have those jeans you were admirin’ for yourself. How’s that?”

The four kids looked at each other. Seeba nodded to Mak, and Anysie smiled.

“Deal.”

“I want my name on both sides of the sled bag mind.”

“Yes sir.”

“Tell Socco to come in and Bobby’ll sort him out. He can bring a few of those dogs too if they’re friendly and put on a bit of show for the customers. We’ll be busy tomorrow around ten in the morning. You can take yer jeans now Mak.”

“Thanks Mr Hansen. You won’t regret it.”

“I’ll go hang the poster shall I?” Seeba smiled, getting gracefully out of her seat.

“Tell Socco to bring a couple more. This store has got big windows.”

*

“You want to come too Mak?” Socco coiled the leads around his knuckles in a fidgety manner as he stood in the sled shed. The truck was outside, ready to take the ‘delegation team’ as Kova had called them to Hansen’s store. Dinahei and Natu were coming, obviously, and Kova was already in his fur, the big tri-colour fluffy Burmese providing a great counterpoint to Dinahei’s sleeker form. Mak was standing with his hands in the pockets of his new fleece lined jeans.

“Nah, it’s OK.” Mak rolled his shoulders. “Three should be enough right?”

Dinahei put his head on one side, ear folded down and whined softly.

“Please Mak?”

Kova watched his nephew consider the offer. His own appearance at the shed had been slightly accidental, because he’d come to do a few measurements and Socco had been getting ready to go out towards Hansen’s place. The chance to be in fur and on show was too tempting to pass up. Lots of other shifters didn’t really like humans, but Kova loved being petted, and he didn’t much care who was doing the petting. Now seeing Dinahei ask for his brother, Kova was reminded of all the times he and Kanu had run together, gone out together. Plenty of people had thought their father just went for lots of walks with two dogs, unaware the rough housing animals were in fact his sons.

“Come on Mak. You gotta represent all the wheel dogs out there eh?”

“Alright.” Mak shook himself and started to undress in the quick and efficient manner they all became very good at. “But if someone takes my new jeans I’m holding you responsible Soc.” Soon enough the big liver and white husky stood next to his smaller brother. “Collars for everyone.”

Socco grabbed two double ended leads and by happy circumstance, clipped Dinahei and Mak to the same one, pairing Kova and Natu on the other. When he bent to change them, Dinahei rubbed his sleek muzzle against his musher’s hand and yipped.

“Leave it.”

“OK. Out to the car people!”

Natu and Kova timed their jump to land together in the back of the cab.”

“Hey uncle Ko.”

“Hey there yourself Natu.” Kova poked his nose into Natu’s shoulder. “My, my, you boys have been pushing yourselves with that car of yours. All putting on lots of muscle I see.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Huh, they get it easy up front.” Mak jumped up and waited in the foot well for Dinahei to join him before landing on the seat. “You have any idea of the starting power it takes to make that thing move? The Buick probably weighed forty-two-hundred pounds when it was new.”

“With the stuff missing and the safe’s added in the back, it’s probably around two tons now.” Natu tucked his tail neatly around his feet as he lay down. “I can’t believe you talked Hansen into giving us a thousand dollars Mak. That was cool.”

“Thanks Nat.” Mak tucked himself into the corner after Socco shut the door. Dinahei sat next to him. Natu pressed his head into Socco’s side as the young man started the truck, and Dinahei whined and pulled across Kova to be with the men he loved. Mak took the collar in his teeth and pulled him back with nothing other than a soft huff. “Don’t pull.”

“But…”

“There’s plenty of time for that later.” Mak pushed the little husky down onto is belly, and lay with his head resting on Dinahei’s shoulders. “It’s kinda nice to actually be in the car for a change.”

“Which reminds me…” Socco glanced at them quickly before turning back to the road. “We need to buy, build or steal a proper trailer and make some crates for the journey to Dawson.”

“It never ends.” Natu rolled his eyes. “Hey at least we can not think about it for a little bit while we get fussed and show off at Hansen’s.”

The truck had posters in the windows, and a big vinyl sticker on the driver’s door. Sighai had been less than happy with the team’s plan to decorate all of the Sabaakax vehicles, and had banned them from touching his prized Chevy. Which was all well and good, but Socco had gone ahead and done it anyway, and he ran a lot faster than his father did. Kova grinned to see the poster in the window of Hansen’s store, and one of the young lads who worked there was waiting buy the door with a roll of tape around one wrist and a small bag of what smelt rather like liver-biscuits.

“Oh boy! Treats!”

Dinahei laughed at him, but he barked too, and Socco shoved the roll of poster’s his cousin had handed him under one arm as he got out of the truck. The four dogs stood side by side on the tarmac, pink tongues lolling and tails wagging.

“Boss said you’d be along.” He was obviously trying to keep his cool, and failing badly. “Can I say ‘hi’ to them? They’re friendly right? Can they have treats?”

Socco burst out laughing.

“Aye, they can. Mind you don’t let them have your fingers too!” Mak bashed his skull against Socco’s thigh. “Alright, alright. Sorry Mike.” The boy knelt down, his whole expression one of love and adoration. “You like huskies eh?”

“I like all dogs, but I’d like a husky one day.”

“You can’t have one now?”

“Mom says not until I finish high school.”

Socco blinked, and looked down at Dinahei.

“Ok, now I feel old. This here’s Mike, the big Burmese is Koal, that’s Nani, and the pretty little blue is Dinahei.”

“He’s the lead dog in the poster?”

“That’s him.” Dinahei took his proffered treat gently between his teeth as Socco spoke, and made a big deal out of crunching it into tiny pieces. “We’re here for some gear and such right?”

“Sure thing, come on in.”

All the staff, numbering four including Bobby, made a big fuss out of the dogs and how well behaved and friendly they were. As soon as the customers realised what was going on, they too sort of abandoned their purchases to stroke the dogs and bombard Socco with questions about sleds, racing, and running with dogs.

“What do they eat?”

“How fast do they go?”

“Do you ever take people out into the wilderness with you?” This came from a hopeful looking twelve year old.

“Are they hard to keep?”

And as if by magic, Hansen Senior arrived just as the question was asked:

“How on earth do you keep warm?”

Socco grinned and knelt to show off the hairs of Natu’s think ruff.

“These guys keep warm easily. They actually have trouble cooling down. See these long hairs? They’re waterproof, but these hairs.” He parted the fur to show the downy soft under-coat. “Those are hollow and they trap air brilliantly, so he stays really warm. Me, I really on the great gear from this store to keep cosy: because I wouldn’t trust anyone to recommend the right stuff the way I trust Mr Hansen here.”

“You silver tongued thing you.” Bobby was grinning from his crouched position. He’d been petting Mak’s head and the fluffy liver and white husky wagged his tail and raised one bright eyebrow spot as the boy with the treats smiled at him. All the dogs, regardless of whether or not they liked to admit it, loved treats. Mostly because processed treats had been denied to them as young teenagers and banned from the house of their alpha. “You want to come and pick out some gear Socco?”

“Are the dog’s alright to have a little wander?”

“They won’t run off right?” Bobby looked doubtful, but his father shrugged. “Sure.”

Unclipped from the leads, Kova and Natu instantly skittered across the shiny laminate flooring, their claws scraping for purchase, barking and yapping excitedly. Mak gave chase, and Dinahei rubbed himself up against Socco’s leg before he took off as well.

“You are completely certain they’ll come back?” Hansen watched the four fluffy tails vanish around the end of an aisle in disbelief. “So, what do you need?”

They chased each other around the store, stopping to sniff things, get petted by people in the store, and pausing to play tussle. It made Kova glad to see Mak and Dinahei playing like overgrown puppies, as though they hadn’t spent the whole of the Christmas period at each other’s throats in a very literal manner. Natu came up alongside him as his young lover tussled with the wheel dog.

“It makes me a dick I’m jealous doesn’t it?” The brindled dog huffed and sighed.

Kova nuzzled against his ruff.

“In time kiddo. Time will eventually fix everything, you’ll see.”

“If I go over there now, the magic will be spoiled, and Mak will remember why he hates us.” Natu pricked up an ear. “Socco is calling us.”

“He is?”

But Dinahei had stilled too, and then they heard the whistle. As one the dogs turned and started to trot back to their musher, and Kova watched Dinahei and Natu press themselves against Socco’s legs.

They heard him. They heard him before he’d even called us back. Kova wagged his tail as he was petted by a customer. I bet even Natauq couldn’t argue with that as proof.

“What’d you get babe?” Natu asked.

Socco made a show of going through his kit and counting off the pieces.

“Silk under layers; a pair of those smartwool gloves, the green ones; head torch; fur and leather mitts, look Nani, the fur is the same colour as you; six pairs of those really good long socks with the padded soles; fleece jacket; sheepskin hat; neck gaiter and new ski goggles.” Socco rubbed Dinahei’s ears. “Reckon it’ll do?”

Dinahei barked in agreement.

“Get a Klim bib too Soc, and a pair of boots.” Mak jerked his head in the direction of the display of snowmobiling pants. “Make the most of this trip, we only get one.”

“But what about the mukluks?”

“Take them as spares. Those boots are over two hundred dollars. Get them.”

Socco took his huge armful of things to the cash desk and placed the boots on top.

“Boots too?” Hansen grinned when he spoke. “Alright.” He counted out a thousand dollars in a variety of crisp and used notes. “I can’t believe I’m paying you to take this stuff off me. When’s the logo going on your sled bag?”

“Just as soon as it’s sewn. We’ll send everyone down your way Sir, I promise.”

“Well thanks for bringing the dogs, everyone has enjoyed it. Are you training today?”

“Dogs day off.”

“Enjoy real meals for a change eh?” Hansen clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll be seeing you around Sabaakax.”

Socco clicked his tongue to the dogs and clipped them back to the leads before scooping up his two bulging sacs of gear. As they left the store, Kova heard a small child bundled up in a bright yellow parka jacket chatting excitedly to its parent.

“I wanna be like him when I grow up daddy!”

Kova woofed softly, it had been a very profitable afternoon.

*

“Your delivery is here.” Sighai grinned in a lopsided manner as he knocked pointlessly on the door jamb. “No other sleds on order at the moment?”

Kova looked around the workshop. His usual mess of parts, bits, unfinished things and stuff that was never going to be done was gone. The workshop practically sparkled, and the long work bench was totally clear for possibly the first time since the ten foot table had been built. Kova hadn’t cleaned down and cleared out all the back orders in ages, but he had worked especially hard since Christmas to deal with every order to leave himself plenty of free time and space to construct what he hoped was going to be one of the fastest and lightest sleds in the business.

“I’ll come get it. No worries.” Kova walked with his brother in law to where the palette of supplies waited out front. He checked it over and signed off the form, and the two men started carrying everything indoors.

The special order consisted of first grade quality white ash, dark blue nylon sacking, various fixings and bolts, and a long package which weighed very little and had cost rather a lot.

“What on earth is that?”

Kova opened the end of the tube and allowed one of the inch wide hollow pipes to fall into his hand. It was black, and glimmered softly in the way expensive materials often do.

“Carbon fibre.”

Sighai raised an eyebrow, snorted, and turned on his heel to leave. Kova was deeply unsurprised when he shut the workshop door behind himself quite a lot harder than he needed too. Apart from Pakak, each of his brother’s in law had some issue with the children entering the race. Nocus thought it was potentially dangerous and expensive, and didn’t want his daughters getting hurt. Of all the others, he was the least of their problems, because at least his arguments were grounded in sense.

When Kova had first entered into the Sabaakax family, taken their name and spent twenty seconds wrestling with the internal knowledge he was going to be part of a family that was mad, loving and enormous for the rest of his life, he had found an instant friend in Sighai. They had a lot in common: the love of running, the interest in making things, and they both quite liked people. It had seemed like the most sensible idea in the world to set up Sabaakax Sleds along with Lena, and the business was a thriving one. But Sighai did not like the idea of the kids racing, though he was all for their pulling the sled for mail run’s and deliveries.

Natauq on the other paw, thought racing was silly, frivolous, and blamed the desire to race entirely with Socco, on whom he also placed all the blame for his youngest son being gay, which to him, was the root of all the families issues. Natauq did not want the team competing at all, certainly did not want them racing over a thousand miles across the Interior, and had been apoplectic to hear about the deal which Ujarak had made with Socco, Natu and Dinahei.

*

“He told them WHAT?”

Kova had rolled his eyes at the explosion. Perhaps it was because he had only married into the family, but he had always been reluctant to join in with the intense hatred some of his relations seemed to feel for the relationship between the three boys.

“Anysie told me. She was there. If they run the Iditarod and place well, Socco, Natu and Dinahei get to live together when they get back.”

“Then they’re not going!” Natauq snapped. “No son of mine is going to make a mockery of our family name with those two!”

“You are talking as though you have a choice in the matter.” Kunik stood with her hands on her hips. Being a grandmother six times over made her no less fearsome to her son-in-law. “Your grandfather has decided this is the case. Ujarak will not allow your pig-headedness to disobey him.”

Natauq glowered at the woman. Kova rubbed his forehead, knowing what was coming next, and knowing not only was Natauq about to seriously regret what he said, but the human also had no idea of the very concept he was about to promote.

“Perhaps Ujarak is getting a bit long in the tooth these days. His is not the only opinion there is you know.”

Instantly, the room was filled was snarling, because Luava and Opik had shifted onto four legs. Two sisters, grandchildren of the man Natauq had just cast aspersions about, snapping and growling, their fur bristling with rage.

“You have no idea what you are saying.” Kunik snapped.

“He is the alpha.” Luava was growling low, even though her husband couldn’t really understand exactly what she was saying, he was certainly getting the gist if the colour draining from his face was anything to go by. “His is the only opinion which matters!”

“If Ujarak has decided on this deal, the rest of us are powerless to stop it.” Kova took a deep breath, knowing what he was going to say next was not going to be welcome. “Are you set on making your son miserable for the rest of his life?”

Natauq glowered at him and in an impression of his most hot-headed and eldest son, he stormed off. Luava looked back at Kova, her blue eyes flashing.

“You should not have said that to him. It’s not like one of your children is embroiled in this horrible situation.”

Kova opened his mouth to speak, but the husky had gone trotting off after her husband. Opik turned to him, one toffee brown eyebrow spot raised, her black tipped ears dropped.

“You really think there is nothing can be done?”

Kova pushed his fingers through his sister-in-law’s thick fur.

“I really don’t. They all care about each other just as much as Mak cares about Kipa, or Suda loves Kal. It’s done.”

“Ujarak certainly thinks so.” Her voice was morose.

“And when has Grandfather ever been wrong eh?” Kova smiled. “It’s not the end of the world Opik. Both your sons have found true happiness, what more could a mother want?”

Opik had grinned at him, her tail wagging.

“A quiet life?”

*

As a teenager, Kova had always thought the idea of a quiet life was boring, but now he was happy he had settled in, and not given in to the urge to roam around, see the world and never put down roots. Shifters were often blessed with strong families, and that could make a person want to stay forever or turn tail and run away. As a teenager, Kova had belonged to the second category, and had taken his brother along for the ride a little bit, until he had run smack bang into a dog who made him think otherwise. Kova adored his wife, could not even begin to think about life without her, and he was happy that life has blessed him to stay in the high north, surrounded by a family who loved each other, even though they weren’t always the best at showing it, in a town where his skills with sleds could be fully appreciated.

Now he looked around the workshop, the giant technical scale drawing of the new sled pinned to the far wall. All of his tools and equipment were laid out around him, and he couldn’t help but smile. Sighai didn’t want to understand, but more than running in the traces, this room which smelt of wood shavings and linseed oil, was Kova’s world. There was nothing Kova liked better than taking things which looked, to anyone else, like they might simply be sticks and pipes, and turning them into something swift and sleek.

First job was to shape the runners. The white ash was well seasoned and dried, so it was simply a case of tillering the two front ends until they created just the right curve. Kova put the two pieces into the jig and tightened the pressure by three notches, and left them to have a think about wanting to bend into the right shape. Kova sanded down the other white ash planks which would make up the slatted base of the sled where the bag would sit, and turned the radio on low as he began to assemble the parts which would in a few days be one of the lightest racing sleds around. He had seen others, in catalogues and online stores, fully composite with carbon fibre and high impact plastic parts. But regardless of how strong they said they were, they still looked a bit like clunky white children’s toys.

This sled would be nothing like that. Kova measured, re measured, checked and marked the lengths for the front and rear stanchion before he set the carbon fibre tubes in the vice to be cut with the special tungsten and diamond blade. Once cut, holes were drilled, again after being checked and checked again, before rivets and bolts were fitted. Two pieces of carbon fibre tube had arrived pre-curved to a twelve degree angle, and these were trimmed to become the stringer rails. In not too much time at all, Kova had the upper frame of a decent sled taking shape.

He stopped for tea, and Lena stuck her head around the door to see what was going on.

“That looks… very dark.”

“The ash will brighten it up eh?” Kova took the mug she proffered gratefully. “How’s things out front?”

“Oh you know,” Lena shrugged in a fluid motion, “my husband is still storming around the place with a face like thunder. I think he’s coming around to the notion though.” Lena sipped her own tea. “I’m kind of looking forwards to it really, even if it’s only going to be one real day of running.”

“Any idea of how Socco is going to justify dropping two dogs so early in the race? The vets might be suspicious.”

“I’m sure the kids will come up with something, they’re smart like that.” Lena nodded to the sled. “Have you much left to do today? It’s nearly closing time.”

“I’m gonna bend the brush bow around and leave it to set up overnight. Gimmie an hour?”

“Sure thing hun.” Lena took his cup back. Her eyes fell on the dark blue nylon. “Is that for the sled bag?”

Kova nodded.

“Four and a half foot slats, you reckon you can run something up?”

Lena took the fabric, and left, grinning.

It took a while to get the layers in white ash and spruce ready to be laminated together for the brush bow, but after they’d been soaked, glued up, set in the jig mould which would create a beautiful semi-circle just less than two feet across and placed in the pressure bag to set for the night, Kova was confident in his ability to build a beautiful sled. He shut up for the night, and went home to be with his family.

The following morning, Kova checked on everything in the shop, and left Sighai with the orders because it was Lena’s day off. He went right out back and started to work on the parts which had been left. The brush bow, finished, sanded and cleaned up, was attached to the frame made up by the stanchions and the slats, and suddenly there was a sled sitting on the work bench where it looked like it should have been floating. The brackets which would attach the frame to the curved runners were made of high strength aluminium, as the handle bar was, and Kova spent a while wrapping the handle section with a length of bright blue cord, securing it in place all the way along with glue for security. After attaching a couple of struts to the back of the rig to keep the rear stanchions exactly the right width apart, the sled was basically finished, although it wasn’t likely to run anywhere. Kova took the pieces which would become the runners and the two long strips of shiny black carbon fibre and then assembled every clamp in the workshop.

The white ash had tillered to a perfect curve, and the six and a half feet lengths were only six eighths thick and four inches wide, but once the three millimetre sheet of carbon fibre was added, they would take the team well over a thousand miles. The resin for the carbon fibre sheets came in two parts, and Kova sniffed suspiciously at the can’s as he opened them with a flat metal bar. Oddly, the chemicals didn’t smell too strongly, and the catalyst in its little tin was actually slightly sweet. Kova though you could be tricked into thinking it might be safe to eat, but that was clearly not the case.

The composite sheets had been cut roughly to fit, and Kova decided it was safer to leave the edges slightly large and trim them off once they were fixed to the runners securely. The strips had been cut through the weft so the long strips of the warp threads ran the whole length of the runner. Kova got his particle mask from its hook on the wall and set about abrading the bottom of each runner and the inside of the carbon fibre sheet with hundred grit glass paper. After that, it was simply a case of following the instructions on the tin, mixing the catalyst with the resin and working quickly to avoid the product going off and getting hot before it had been laid. Kova spread the mix smoothly across the whole surface, scraped off the excess, and laid over the carbon fibre sheets. Starting at the centre, he clamped, pushed and squeezed to remove any trace of an air bubble along the great length. When the whole runner was clamped, he did the other one, and whistling, went about his favourite work of building sleds.

*

“Nuh-uh, no peeking.” Kova pulled Dinahei’s hand back to his side, and checked that every member of the eleven strong team was still wearing their haphazard blindfolds. “Are you guys ready?”

“YES!”

“Quit teasing us uncle Kova!” Cenai was practically hopping up and down where she stood, and her excitement was infectious, because the team vibrated almost visibly with energy and tension.

Kova realised that regardless of what shape they were in, they really were coming together as a team, attuned to each other, reading the emotions of the team without even knowing it. Dinahei took a deep, steadying breath, and by degrees each of them calmed and the shifting of weight and fidgeting ceased. Kova wondered if they even knew they were doing it: responding to their lead dog just as though they had been on the gang line.

“Alright kids. One… two… three… OK! Open ‘em!”

There was a moment of absolute stunned silence before Dinahei stepped forwards and touched the curved brush bow of the new sled. He turned to look back at Socco, his eye shining with emotion. Then the eruption happened.

“It’s so slick!”

“Look at those runners! I bet they have no drag at all.”

“Hell yes! Good one uncle Kova!”

“This is going to be expensive.”

“No it isn’t.” Lena stood behind them, holding the sled bag. It was embroidered with Hansen’s name and shop logo, the logo Kova had sketched long ago for the sled shop, and above that, in bold white letters: SABAAKAX SLED DOGS: Anchorage, AK. “But you do have to run with our name on your sled too now.”

“Hell yeah!” Socco wore the biggest grin of any of them. “We’re going to the Iditarod!”

“Yes you are.” Lena pushed the bag at them. “Now go show off your new gear. Go on, mush outta here.”