One Arctic Summer Page 2

  “Ergh!” Alexandra growled again, this time adding a hiking boot foot stomp for emphasis.

  “You know, if you’re not going to eat that, I’ll need my cup and spoon back,” Q said. “If you don’t want it, my dog will get rid of it for you. He’s more of a fish-eater, but he’s been known to chow down on Mexican beef and chilis. The folks over at Pepe’s save their scraps for us who have dogs.”

  “What’s Pepe’s?” she asked as she inspected the reddish-brown blob on her spoon.

  “The Mexican restaurant at Cape Smythe. You don’t have much choice for cheechako food up here. It’s pretty much either Mexican or pizza. Oh, and I wouldn’t expect much in the way of salad or fresh fruits and vegetables if that’s what you’re looking for.”

  Alexandra’s stomach roared again. It knew that even if she went somewhere else to eat, it would be at least an hour before she actually got to consuming the food off the end of a fork. “When in Rome,” she grumbled, and stabbed the spoon in the cup. She pulled out a lump of brown gravy-covered meat and took a bite. Chewing slowly, she realized it wasn’t as bad as she had feared.

  “Would you like some chips with your chili?” Q asked, waving a small snack-sized bag of corn chips. “Only two bucks a bag.”

  She swallowed the bite in her mouth before answering, her taste buds eager for a flavor other than straight red chili. “Are there any hidden costs?” she asked, setting the cup on the counter to get into her purse.

  “Nope. I’ll even throw in a paper napkin since you’re a repeat customer.”

  “Deal!” she said, handing him two one-dollar bills.

  She pulled on the sides of the bag, trying to open in, then tugged harder, the bag exploding and scattering its contents all over the floor.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  Rocky set down his empty herb container and ran to her side, stopping short of touching her. “Don’t worry. Today’s your lucky day. It’s not often we have a money-back guarantee. Q, get me another bag.”

  “Ahem…”

  “It’s covered by the dinner you owe me,” Rocky said, and grabbed the chips from Q’s hand. He pulled the Leatherman tool out of his front pocket and slit the top open.

  “Here,” he said and offered it to her. “Sometimes it’s safer to use a knife. Or at least, there’s less food wasted.”

  “I’ll take care of the mess,” Q said. He walked to the back door. “Come on in, Fish Face,” he called to his dog. “I got another floor cleaning job for you.”

  Alexandra looked around the store again. Other than the stool behind the cash register and the old kitchen chair her knife-toting new acquaintance had been in, there was no place to sit.

  Rocky saw the search for a seat and took the lead. “Here, let me get my stuff out of the way. You can set your cup in the window while you eat your chips. You might want to buy a bottle of water or soda, too. There aren’t any drinking fountains around here.”

  Her resolve to stay strong in the strange new land was wearing thin. Between delayed flights, lost luggage and the hotel reservation that the university had never made, Alexandra was spent—depleted and depressed and without a place to stay for the night. Her head shook back and forth slowly as she made her way to the duct-taped chair.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Rocky asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, sniffing back the tears. “I thought it was because I was so hungry. I haven’t eaten anything for,” she looked at her watch. “What day is it?”

  “Saturday,” Rocky said and crossed his arms across his chest, stuffing his hands under his armpits, making sure he didn’t reach out to comfort her.

  “Crap!”

  Q and Rocky looked at her but didn’t say a word.

  “Well, at least I didn’t say ‘shit.’”

  Both men nodded minimally in agreement.

  “You save that for spilled food, I guess,” Rocky said, and winked at her.

  Alexandra’s mouth twitched as she tried to contain her smile. She had worked so hard for her degree, to get those letters after her name so she’d be respected, and now what happens? She melts down in front of a couple of locals who probably don’t own a spare shirt between the two of them.

  “What’s the matter?” Rocky prompted, watching her waver between letting her human side out and continuing with the proper and uptight college snob facade. “Did you lose a day, your job, luggage, resolve…”

  “Yes, I did. Or at least, most of the above. That idiot at the university didn’t make my hotel reservation, I guess. At least, they can’t find it. I thought today was Friday and I could call and get the name they reserved the room under, but that isn’t going to happen since today’s tomorrow and no one is in the offices on the weekend. Yes, on the luggage, too. The airlines told me to check back tomorrow. That is, if the plane comes in. They said something about scheduled maintenance or something. My job? I’m an intern. I don’t get paid. I’m slave labor, working for the experience. I need a certain number of hours in the field before they’ll even consider me for an appointment where I want to be. Resolve…”

  Alexandra took a big bite of the chili, then shoved three chips in her mouth and chewed thoroughly, wishing she had something to wash it down with. Since she was scraping by on what was in her wallet, she worked up some spit and swallowed. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  “Well, I don’t know…” Q said. “You got mighty upset about spilled chips…”

  “I think you look very tough,” Rocky said, turning his flirtatious wink into a blink hidden by a feigned cough. “You’re probably thousands of miles from home, no place to stay, limited funds, eating canned chili and chips in a convenience store at the northernmost city in America…”

  Alexandra dropped the spoon before it got to her mouth, spilling its contents down the front of her raincoat. “Shit! Yes, right now my life sucks! Thanks for spelling it out for me!”

  Rocky grabbed the handkerchief out of Q’s hip pocket and made a hasty clean-up of the chili on the front of her clothes, backing off on wiping up the smaller smears left behind. He stood back, shook out the contents on the floor, called, “Fish Face, food!” and stood back.

  The three-legged black dog came running from the back of the store and quickly licked up all traces of the spill.

  “I can fix you up with a place to stay for the night,” Rocky said. “No charge. As far as everything else, I’m sure it’ll work out.”

  She looked up and saw he was serious—a genuinely concerned person. It didn’t matter whether he was male or female, young or old, all she saw was sincerity and willingness to help a fellow human being in distress. Try finding that at an east coast university!

  “All right. I appreciate it. I sure hope you have something to drink, though.”

  Rocky nodded, then reached into the nook by the window and took his herbal storage container. “Are you ready?”

  Alexandra’s mouth opened, ready to say yes, when she held up a finger. “Just a sec. Hey, Fish Face. Food!”

  The dog came lumbering back out, not as hungry now that he’d had chips and a bit of dip.

  “How about a little spot-cleaning,” she said, then squatted down and stuck her chest out so the dog could lick off the remains of the chili.

  ‘My kind of woman,’ went through Rocky’s head. He looked over at Q and saw the same look of appreciation on his cousin’s face. He shook his head minimally, reminding him that he was married.

  Q scowled at him. ‘Yeah, I know, I know…’

  She stood back up, then reached into the window sill for the cup of chili, chips, and the spoon. “Oh, and here you go,” and handed the chili cup and spoon to Q. “I might need these for breakfast,” holding up the chips, “just in case things don’t work out.”

  “Ready?” Rocky asked again, holding open the door.

  “Resolve returned. Yes, I’m ready.”

  When they were outside, Alexandra looked around. “Where’s your truck?”

&nbs
p; “I don’t own a truck. That was Q’s. Oh, and I’m Rocky, by the way.”

  “Rocky By-the-way? That’s a funny last name. What’s it short for?”

  “How about you tell me what they call you and then I’ll explain the etymology of my name.”

  “Whoa! Big word for such a small-town boy.”

  “All right, Whoa Big-word…” Rocky mocked, his left eye squinted as he peered into her face, letting her know she had just insulted him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s just they advised us in school to use smaller words in smaller communities, especially in remote areas with limited access to communications and libraries and… Please accept my apology.”

  Rocky shrugged one shoulder. She wasn’t the first college snob who’d come into this town. Researchers came and left, looking for the next big find or news story, whether it be whales stuck in the ice or thousand-year-old mummies preserved in the permafrost. They were all the same—transients. Snobs who slung around big words, trying to impress others while they sought the meaning of life. They’d stick around for a few weeks, then hustle back to the cluttered and putrid existences they had come from. He’d stay where he was, where the traditions of his ancestors fed both the bodies and the souls of those who stayed around to be nurtured.

  “My name is Alexandra Oppenheimer, but I go by X.”

  “Makes signing your name much easier, I’m sure,” Rocky said, adding a wink.

  “Just don’t call me X-rated. I hate it when people say that.”

  Rocky’s eyes widened in shock. “I’d never suggest…” he said, then closed his mouth before he did say something embarrassing.

  “You’re blushing, Rocky! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown man blush before.”

  Rocky took a deep breath, started to offer an excuse, then decided it was best to play the small-town dunce. She’d be gone in a day or two anyhow. Why waste words on the wind, the sparkle of emotion she tickled out of him wouldn’t be returned or appreciated. She was a fleshy package but probably had little, if any, substance. She was merely a shadow of the person he had seen in his dreams. His red-haired raven—the other half of his soul—was just that: a dream.

  “Well?” she asked. “I don’t know where we’re going, and I’m sorry if I sound rude, but I’m not used to this cold. Does the sun ever come out around here?”

  “This way,” he said, and pointed past the airport. “And the sun is out and won’t go down until August first. It’s just cloudy. Come November, you won’t see the sun for two months. But don’t worry, I have it on good authority that it’ll return by late January. Happens every year like clockwork.”

  “You mean like calendar-work?”

  “Nope. I don’t think there is even such a word, Miss. Like clockwork on the clock of the grand scale of life, not the itty bitty electronic or geared mechanisms of man,” Rocky said, giving her a weak, half-hearted smile.

  “What did I do to piss you off? Dang, you’re moodier than I am!”

  Rocky ignored her question. She wouldn’t understand his disappointment at another red head coming into his life who wasn’t the right one. “Where we’re going is just down the road. I live with my grandmother. I sleep on the couch in the living room. There’s only one bedroom in the house and she sleeps in it. I think I’d better warn you, though. If she offers to share her bed with you, I suggest you decline. The bed’s comfortable enough, and she doesn’t snore, but she tosses and turns and kicks and…” He shook his head. “She doesn’t do it on purpose,” he said, then smiled his sly grin, “At least, I don’t think so. You can have the couch and I’ll take the floor until you get your housing situation settled.”

  X opened her mouth to protest, and a burp sneaked out. “Oops! Excuse me.”

  “Canned chili. It’ll do it every time,” Rocky said, then pointed to the small unpainted house. “We’re here.”

  Chapter 3

  “Thanks for letting me stay with your family. It really does mean a lot to me. I don’t think this level of hospitality would be shown you if you were stranded in my hometown.”

  X saw the shadow of a frown creep up on Rocky’s face and realized that her remark sounded prejudiced against Natives. “Shown you or me or anyone else—young or old, for that matter.”

  Rocky chuckled at her uneasiness. “Disrespect doesn’t care about gender, age, or ethnicity. Generous and rude people are as diverse as the rocks on the earth.”

  “Hey, I like that. Some are as tough as obsidian or diamonds, others as flaky as mica.”

  Rocky grinned at her appreciation of his colorful and unusual analogy. “And some are as precious as gold or gems, some as worthless as the mud on the bottom of a boot.”

  X added, “Old as the hills or new as spewed lava. Gee, Rocky, we could go on all night.”

  His chest rose and fell in a silent laugh, keeping back the type of comments he and Q usually tossed back and forth when the women weren’t around. Ever since Q had married, their time together had evaporated, their evening chit chats and commentaries on everything from who was running for mayor to what was the best motor to have on a whaling boat had dried up. He wouldn’t have to worry about that for long now, though. A little more than two weeks and it would be time for him to leave.

  “I said, did you know the difference between magma and lava?” X asked, apparently not for the first time.

  “I’m sorry. I was distracted by a random thought… Yes, I know the difference. Do you?”

  X took a deep breath, ready to defend her intelligence, to remind him in her brash eastern manner that she was a college graduate with a minor in geology… Then she relaxed, foregoing the complicated spiel she would have given the bar patrons she served at the tavern near the university. She didn’t need to protect her self-esteem with a synthetic thick skin in this village. These were real people.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Lava is simply magma—that is, molten rock—that has left the earth’s crust.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I heard, too. Some rocks just can’t take the heat…”

  “Or they want to go to the beach…” X added. “Hey, speaking of the beach, do you think you could show me where the dig site is? I have a map in here somewhere…” She opened her backpack and pawed fruitlessly through the contents until he spoke.

  “We don’t need a map. It’s just down the road. Everyone knows where it is. My grandmother said that is where her ancestors lived. Her family has been in this neighborhood since before walrus had whiskers.”

  “Does that mean you plan on living here until you have grandchildren?”

  Rocky leaned forward, as if to tell her a secret, then whispered, “I have to have children first. And in order to have children, I have to be married.” He stood up and resumed speaking in his usual soft voice, “And in order to be married, I have to find the right woman. I know just about everyone in this village and... Scratch that. I do know everyone in this village, and she’s not here.”

  “You don’t know me,” X said, then realized that by being literally correct, she was making a pass. “I mean…I mean…you know my name, and a little about me, but I’m sure there are others in this town you don’t know.”

  “Nope. The only one I don’t know is you and anyone else who just stepped off the plane and is staying at the hotel. Logistically, only half would be women, and of those, half of them would be married. And of those, all of them will be leaving before winter.” And I’ll be gone before then!

  “So, can we go see the dig site now or do we have to wait until morning?” X asked, eager to change the subject.

  “Why wait? It’s plenty light now. Unless you want a little muktuk.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dinner.”

  “I mean, what is it in words I’d relate to?”

  “Whale skin with a chunk of blubber attached to it. Got a nutty flavor to it, or so I’ve heard. It just tastes like muktuk to me.”

  “No, thanks. I think I�
��ll pass. That chili didn’t sit too well. Whale blubber for dessert might just tip the scales in the wrong direction.”

  The two walked toward the beach down the unpaved road, side by side, a cautious two feet away from each other. Rocky noticed a former classmate and his girlfriend walking toward him, hand-in-hand, their smiles identical.

  “Hey, there, Oscar, Lisa. Anything but mosquitoes biting down there?”

  Oscar slipped him a sly smile and a wink. “Nothing that I care to talk about. We weren’t fishing. Just taking a walk.”

  Lisa leaned in close to Oscar and kissed him quick on the cheek, then pulled back and hugged his elbow close to her. “Tell him. It’s okay. He’s our friend.”

  “We’re going to have a baby,” he said. “Oh, and we’re going to get married, too.”

  “Babies can come anytime,” Rocky said. “Weddings are generally planned.”

  All four of them laughed, then Lisa gently tugged at her fiancé’s arm. “Let’s go. It’s getting too windy.”

  Oscar rolled his eyes. He knew what she wanted. More alone time. Her parents were out of town and they had the house to themselves in the afternoon while her brother was at work. “Just a sec.” He turned to Rocky and asked, “So, did you find your red raven?” nodding toward X.

  “Huh? Oh, no. This is Alexandra Oppenheimer. She’s the intern for the archaeologist at the new dig site. She’s only here for the rest of the summer,” Rocky said, then added a sideways glance that Oscar and Lisa understood to mean, ‘If she lasts that long.’

  “Welcome to Utqiaģvik,” Oscar said.

  X’s eyes looked from Rocky back to Oscar. “I thought this was Barrow…”

  “Maybe to you it’s Barrow, but to us who have been in the area for generations, it’s Utqiaģvik, the place to hunt snowy owls. Or get potatoes, depending on who’s version of site names you’re reading. To us, it’s just home.”

  “Well, either way, it’s a wonderful warm town, despite the wind. Nice meeting both of you. Or would that be all three of you?” X asked.