Benton Fraser | Due South

[dogsled]

BENTON FRASER。

"You know, Fraser, when they offered me this assignment, they made it sound kind of normal. They say, 'Hey, Ray, here's a chance to start over, ditch the past.' 'What's the catch?' I say. 'Oh, your partner's Canadian.' Canadian? I got nothing against Canadians, except for the time when they won the World Series, which I'm willing to overlook. But at no time did they say, 'you'll be working with a Mountie who's got a wolf that's a florist'"

NEW READ JOURNAL CREDIT

Comments

[kickem]

[If someone had told Ray several decades ago that he'd be living in the wild heart of Canada he'd have laughed the suggestion away. He didn't do wilderness and survival, and he definitely didn't do Canada. Or at least he never used to. He was a city boy through and through, born and bred and thoroughly used to the tough streets of Chicago. The thing was there really wasn't much difference between the wild streets of his hometown and the wild North of Canada. They were both about survival of the fittest and it wasn't hard to realise that it was much easier to deal with both places with a partner at your side.

So maybe that'd been why he'd somehow fallen into this life with Fraser, the both of them aware of the power of companionship and Ray willing (perhaps just slightly reluctantly at first) to drop everything else to bundle away into the depths of the Arctic. He'd follow Fraser anywhere and it'd only taken the return of some slick Italian all those many many years ago in Chicago from him to truly realise that.

There were times when it got lonely, especially in the earlier years when Fraser was away and Ray was left to adjust to the silence of the wilderness, but he learned to adapt and boy, he was a quick learner. They even got themselves a family, one full of sled dogs and, eventually, children as well. It was the kind of life he'd always dreamed of having, not caring where it happened so long as it was with his best buddy. Even the hardships were something he could cope with, as familiar as he was with a life of scraping by.

Scraping by was just a way of life around here, even when it came to something as simple as wood, which Fraser had long ago drilled into him was an important commodity through all seasons. Ray never had been quite as skilled at making a fire as his partner- not when he spent years thinking the most efficient way was surely to dump a whole load of fuel over a few logs and light it all- but he still got by with it all. Today wasn't a great day for it, he could admit that, especially not after dropping an armful in the snow and having poor luck with the kindling. But he got it going eventually, perhaps a little too close to Fraser's return to really warm up the place, but it could hardly be helped.

The baying of dogs and the familiar sound of a snowmobile signalled Fraser's return long before his voice did, but Ray stays by the fire, poking it curiously. Impatiently.]

Fraser, we gots damp wood.