38 - The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena Read Online Free

symbol of the town,” the pilot explained.
    “Oh,” I murmured. I knew I was blushing. I turned away.
    “Jordan knew that,” Dad said. “He was just playing one of his practical
jokes.”
    “Uh—yeah.” I went along with it. “I knew it was a statue all along.”
    “You did not, Jordan,” Nicole said. “You were really scared!”
    I punched Nicole in the arm. “I was not! It was a joke.”
    Dad put an arm around each of us. “Isn’t it great the way these two kid each other?” he said to the pilot.
    “If you say so,” the pilot replied.
    We hopped out of the plane. The pilot opened the cargo hold. Nicole and I
grabbed our backpacks.
    Dad had brought a huge, airtight trunk for film, cameras, food, sleeping
bags, and other supplies. The pilot helped him carry it off the airstrip.
    The trunk was so big, Dad could fit inside it. It reminded me of a red
plastic coffin.
    Iknek Airport was like a tiny wooden house, just two rooms. Two pilots in
leather jackets sat at a table playing cards.
    A tall, brawny man with dark hair, a thick beard, and leathery skin stood up
and crossed the room to greet us. His gray parka hung open over a flannel shirt
and deerskin pants.
    This must be our guide, I realized.
    “Mr. Blake?” the man said to Dad. His voice was low and hoarse. “I’m Arthur
Maxwell. Need some help there?” He grabbed one end of the trunk from the pilot.
    “This is an awfully big trunk you brought,” Arthur added. “Do you really need
all this stuff?”
    Dad reddened. “I’ve got a lot of cameras, tripods and things…. Well,
maybe I overpacked.”
    Arthur frowned at me and Nicole. “I’d say so.”
    “Call me Garry,” Dad said. “These are my kids, Jordan and Nicole.” He nodded
toward us.
    Nicole said “Hi,” and I added, “Nice to meet you.” I can be polite when I
have to be.
    Arthur stared at us. Then he grunted.
    “You didn’t mention kids,” he mumbled to Dad after a minute.
    “I’m sure I did,” Dad protested.
    “I don’t remember it,” Arthur replied, frowning.
    Everyone was silent. We pushed through the airport door and started down the
muddy road.
    “I’m hungry,” I said. “Let’s go into town and get some food.”
    “How far is it to town, Arthur?” Dad asked.
    “How far?” Arthur echoed. “You’re looking at it.”
    I stared around in surprise. There was only one road. It began at the airport
and ended in a pile of snow about two blocks away. A few wooden buildings were
sprinkled along it.
    “This is it?” I cried.
    “It’s not Pasadena,” Arthur grumbled. “But we call it home.”
    He led us down the muddy road to a diner called Betty’s.
    “I guess you’re hungry,” he grumbled. “Might as well eat a hot meal before we
set out.”
    We settled into a booth by a window. Nicole and I ordered hamburgers, french
fries, and Cokes. Dad and Arthur ordered coffee and beef stew.
    “I’ve got a sled and four dogs ready to go,” Arthur announced. “The dogs can
pull this trunk of yours and the other supplies. We’ll walk beside the sled.”
    “That sounds fine,” Dad said.
    “Whoa!!” I protested. “We’re walking? How far?”
    “Ten miles or so,” Arthur replied.
    “Ten miles!” I’d never walked that far before. “Why do we have to walk? Why
can’t we take a helicopter or something?”
    “Because I want to take photos along the way, Jordan,” Dad explained. “The
landscape is fascinating. You never know what we’ll come across.”
    Maybe we’ll come across the Abominable Snowman, I thought. That would be
cool.
    Our food arrived. We all ate in silence. Arthur wouldn’t look me in the eye.
He wouldn’t look any of us in the eye. He stared out the window while he ate.
Outside on the street, a Jeep drove by.
    “Have you ever seen this snow creature we’re looking for?” Dad asked Arthur.
    Arthur speared a piece of meat with his fork and popped it into his mouth. He
chewed. He chewed some more. Dad, Nicole, and I all