by Sarah Davis
Noah asked if she wanted to go out flying the following day as the fog was predicted to clear by then. Home for a two-week stay from Anchorage, Army planned to fly down to the mountains.
“That sounds like fun. Anyone else tagging along?” she asked. She imagined Noah shrugging and laughed.
“Not yet. Just the three of us. There is room for more,” he added. They would be flying in Army’s Twin Otter plane. The small plane could seat six and carry quite a bit of equipment.
“I would like to see the Brooks Range. I slept the first time I flew over them. I’ll let you know later if I find another passenger,” she bid him goodbye, feeling her spirits had lifted.
How about it, Lu? Want to take a trip to the mountains?
No, Lucy quietly reverberated through Penny’s mind. I don’t really feel like going.
Her sister’s illness was something they didn’t talk about. Everyone was aware of Lucy’s poor health, and they shied away from mentioning it, which made it easier for Penny to cope with her sister’s disinclination to leave the house most days. The harsh, cold, dreary tundra climate made it difficult for Penny not to stay in bed most days. But she had a job to keep her busy away from the small home, whereas her sister’s writing kept her indoors. Where some authors traveled to gain inspiration for writing, Lucy relived Penny’s daily activities and used them for her compositions.
Do the best with what we have, right? Penny thought.
And be happy because we have a lot. I know. Wallowing in self-pity does nothing. It gets so very quiet when you, mother and Blue all leave. But the quiet helps me focus, and I do get a lot of writing done. I envy you, Pen. But I also look forward to each and every day I can spend watching the world happen through your eyes. It is more than what could be.
It was in that moment that Penny was so very grateful for their mental connection. A random thought occurred between them, one that both vexed and humored. The giggles transcended into fits of laughter that left both breathless with tears streaming down Penny’s face.
It is a bit disturbing, knowing you see everything that I do. Sometimes I don’t even realize it. I take it for granted! Penny thought.
Okay, first of all, I can ignore you or tune you out. I don’t recall observing you in the bathroom, with limited exceptions I suppose, Lucy thought in a sarcastic tone.
Penny snickered as she realized the truth of this.
Secondly, you block me during times of high stress. Lucy continued more soothingly. When the incident happened back in Pasadena, I saw more on the television than I did through our eyes, Pen. I do believe you blocked me, intentionally or subconsciously. Doesn’t matter. I think that whenever you and Noah finally get together…
The shift in subjects caught Penny off guard, and her mental shout of What?! cut her sister off. Noah is my friend!
Lucy continued in a placating tone. Or when you fall in love and get married to someone, anyone, I think we will be able to ensure your privacy during most times. I would still sense your feelings, though. Just like I can breathe without thinking. You know what I mean.
Penny understood, although it helped discussing it with her sister. She shook her head.
Friends, Lu. Nothing more.
Penny sighed and left the room to call her mother about taking the trip the following day. Eelyn was always excited for an opportunity to fly.
The fog cleared that afternoon along with Penny’s sulk. With the retreat of the white veil, Penny’s breath came easier, the claustrophobic feeling having disappeared. In the early hours before twilight the following morning, Blue bounded out of the truck behind Penny at the small airport and ran up to greet Winter. Winter wandered close to Penny and licked her hand before leading the rambunctious puppy away.
They secured the simple provisions for the short trip along with emergency gear. After a quick cup of hot chocolate with the airport manager and the resultant emptying of bladders, they boarded the plane.
Penny and Noah buckled and secured their headsets in the back seats as they waited for Army and Eelyn, co-pilot for the day, to complete prefight. The Otter had the capability for a land or water landing and with its main and reserve fuel tank could travel great distances. It easily accommodated the four people and two dogs.
Blue and Winter curled up at Penny and Noah’s feet. The weather called for sun and a light breeze. Their route to the Anaktuvuk Pass in the Brooks Range took them roughly two-hundred-and-twenty miles to the southeast. Excitement rushed through Penny as she pictured the mountains.
“Winds are due to increase later this afternoon. My plan again is to do a run down to Anaktuvuk Pass for a short visit. My buddy Jake plans to meet us. We are fueled to capacity and should have plenty of time to stretch our wings,” Army relayed after take-off.
Penny could hear the smile in his voice. He had mentioned Jake in the past and knew him to be a long-time friend. They served in the army together for twenty years. His son and Noah also served together, although for a much shorter period.
The dark blue sea vanished quickly behind them as the expansive grayish-green tundra took over. Here and there winding rivers sectioned off the tundra. Because of the prolonged heat wave of the summer and fall, the green stretched out before them like the sea. Penny patiently longed for the view of the Brooks Mountain range as the two pilots discussed airstrip conditions at the little town that was their destination.
A jostling of her shoulder drew Penny from her dreamless sleep. Noah was leaning into her and looking out her window. Her usual first reaction at being woken from a slumber was to lash out, but the shock of his near proximity doused those feelings. She gazed wonderingly at the shades of black within his thick hair inches from her nose. His eyes met hers as he turned.
“Wakey, wakey, Penny. The mountains are in view,” he said with a smile. An exciting warmth spread through her chest and up her face as they stared at each other. She tore her gaze from his and peered out the window.
The carpet of green ran along the edge of the grey mountains, their sharp peaks poised beneath a clear blue sky. The homescape she left was a sharp contrast to this scene before her.
Home, she wondered, when did I start to think of Utqiaġvik as home?
Eelyn gracefully landed the plane on the clear gravel runway, and a small crowd greeted them as they exited the craft. The dogs ran about, happy to stretch their legs. There was much exchange of hugs and a joyous reunion for Army and Noah and their comrades. The people were friendly with Penny and Eelyn, exchanging pleasantries with them as well. Multiple packages were gathered near the plane, the caribou that Army had so looked forward to. Penny avoided the light and friendly chatter by arranging the packages in the coolers inside the plane, her mouthwatering at the thought of roasted caribou.
As she backed out of the plane, she bumped into Noah, who surprised her with a small bundle. Curious, she unfolded it, revealing a suede-soft face mask. Noah confirmed that it was tanned caribou hide. She stroked the velvety material and handed it back to Noah. He held up a hand.
“It’s yours. You will be thankful for it when it gets colder.” Colder. Right. She considered putting it on right then.
Confused, she asked, “Did my mom buy it for me?”
His cocked his head to the side as he watched her. “No,” he said slowly. “Jake made them and gave us a box full. I thought you should have one, unless you don’t…”
Interrupting, she said, “Oh, in that case, thank you.” She smiled, casting her head down. Her sister would say he gave nice presents.
Army strolled up. “Well, kids. Sorry to have to cut this short, but we need to be leaving. Forecast changed. The winds are supposed to pick up, possibly carry in a sudden storm. Lucky us, hey?” If they left now, they should make it back home before it became too bad.
They were lucky. Lucky to have two very good pilots. Turbulence struck halfway back, and the visibility degraded so much that Army and Eelyn navigated only by the instruments. The freak storm hit them wi
th all it could muster. At one point, Penny thought they landed. The plane shook and dropped. Metal groaned, and the windows rattled. Penny held her fists tight in her lap until a touch startled her. Noah had reached over and picked up one of her hands, turning it over to show her the blood beading around her fingernails.
“Let me help you.” He pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped her palms, then tore it in half to wrap her hands. Their heads narrowly escaped knocking into each other with a sudden drop. “I would recommend you clean that better when we land. I don’t want to chance a concussion to retrieve the emergency kit right now.”
Penny looked down at her hands, eyes wide, tears gliding atop her freckled cheeks. Noah scooted as close as his lap belt would allow and took her hand in his.
“I could use a hand to hold right now,” he grunted as the plane dropped and rose abruptly. “Not much for roller coaster rides.” A shocked giggle escaped Penny.
“Roller coaster? I have been in worse than this. This is nothing, right, Eelyn?” Army yelled to his co-pilot.
Eelyn nodded with a plastic smile, her knuckles white on the controls.
“Almost there, guys. No worries,” Eelyn said.
Within minutes, Army turned on the landing lights and hailed the control tower on the radio.
The reply came, “Hold…Tango Zero…visibility zero…other plane to land…”
“Message not clear, repeat. Repeat instructions,” Army barked into the microphone on his headgear.
“Do not…ten minutes…southeaster…” Static filled the void between audible words.
Army worried out loud. “Could be another plane attempting to land. But coming in from what direction?”
Static. “Repeat. Good to go.”
“Cross your fingers,” Army said as he modified the controls dropping the plane’s elevation. At least, that was what Penny gathered from the sharp change in pressure in her ears.
Eelyn set the flaps while Army dropped the airspeed to one hundred knots. He activated the intake deflector, because as he mentioned to Eelyn, the amount of blowing snow probably transformed the runway. Penny only vaguely understood what he meant at that point. Army continued decreasing the airspeed until the tires bumped against the runway. Penny felt the reverse thrust at the same time she heard it.
They made it. Alive.
“Everyone okay?” Eelyn asked.
Penny scanned the occupants. A faint buzzing resonated in her head, and her body shook. Noah’s face paled with a slight green tint. She wondered if she looked similar. We are okay. We made it.
“The dogs are shaken and are ready to disembark,” Penny said.
Ha, terrible pun, Lucy replied.
Getting the plane moved into and parked on the carousel inside the private hangar luckily didn’t take very long, its south-facing door offered some protection from the windy assault.
They stopped in at the terminal and found out that another plane had indeed been attempting to land at that same time, only it crash-landed several hundred yards off to the north of the runway. Emergency crews were already out. The blinding flashing red and blue lights hidden by the stormy night.
“What would have happened if we went down? Could we have landed somewhere without a strip?” Penny asked after the four of them returned home and sat eating a quiet meal at her house.
“Yes, we could land around here without much difficulty. Might have banged the plane a bit. That old bird has been through a lot and can go through a lot more,” said Army.
Army gave the impression they could survive any type of landing, but Penny knew he was only trying to lessen her fears. How could they have survived if the plane plummeted to earth?
“But if something had happened,” she fretted. “I mean, I’m good with first aid and all that. But do you think winter survival would be good to know?”
“Hopefully, you will never be far from town if your vehicle breaks down. But knowledge is power.” His look became thoughtful, and he suggested that he and Noah take her out on a few trips close to town. “Heck, we could do it in the backyard, but that wouldn’t provide the same experience. But the dogs need some sled time away from the yard.” He winked. “Want to start tomorrow? This storm shouldn’t last too long and should leave a bit of snow to blow around,” Army offered, as if he had nothing better to do during his brief vacation from the college.
Penny studied the blinding white, wondering how much was “a bit.” She thought snow usually didn’t stick around until October. Then again, October was only days away.
In the days following the turbulent trip from the mountains, Penny’s anxiety over what happened, or could have happened, gradually waned. She busied herself with the research and other activities, which now included rigorous dog sledding training. In this she was distracted from the possibility that a serial killer was hunting in the small town she considered home.
Revealing
The day Army had planned for an overnight trip with the sleds, Lucy and Eelyn fell ill with rather severe sinus infections. They decided to stay home, leaving Penny to go with Army and Noah.
They set out past the road to the research station for the first part of the trip. Army rode behind the team with the sled. Penny and Noah trailed with a second team, trading off who skied behind the sled. Being pulled by a larger dog team was thrilling.
Wind-burnt and exuberant later that night, they set up camp near a frozen lake. Noah showed Penny how to set the trip wire that would alert them to a wandering polar bear (if the dogs didn’t sound the alarm first). Then, after they started several fires for practice, procured and purified water, the three huddled in the small yellow tent discussing scenarios, though the wind howled so loudly it was hard for anyone to hold a conversation below a shout.
Penny was amazed at how much the trip was like being in a class. Army quizzed her over techniques that they practiced throughout the venture.
As anyone desiring survival skills in the northland might, she asked what to do if a bear attacked the tent.
Army patted his front pocket. “Well, I sleep with a knife.” The implement he extracted from his pocket…well, she was amazed it fit. It was long and of a dull grey metal, thicker in the center with one end curving toward the tip. He nodded to Noah, who also produced such a knife.
“And we have our guns.” Noah then produced an AR from under his bed roll, not the .22 or .243 they normally carried on walks or in the sleds.
Shivers of fear trickled down her back. It was nearing the freeze-up and the bears, anxious to be back out on the ice, had become more active on land. She found herself wondering if it was smart to go out camping with land-locked bears.
As if reading her thoughts, Army said, “When our time comes, there is nothing we can do about it. But until then, it is necessary to enjoy life. We are, of course, safe here. Besides, I have this.” He winked at her, and she realized that he carried his small computer and could monitor any chipped bears. Knowing that allowed her to breathe a bit easier.
Army went over the plan for the next day, which started with netting fish from the nearby frozen lake.
A lull dropped into their conversation, stretching out for a million hours.
“Penny, forgive me being a nosey old man, but Noah tells me that you experience frequent dreams about a polar bear. One in particular.”
Penny glanced quickly at Army before returning her gaze to her hands. “Hmmm,” was all she said.
“In your research role in looking out for polar bears, there would naturally be some anxiety and other emotions associated with that. Our work, while trying to answer questions and do what we can to assist the marine bears, does result in leaving a bit of an imprint on them and is not without risk, both to the bears and to us. It is impossible to study a subject without some level of consequence.” Army’s voice reverted to his lecture tone.
She furrowed her brow and chewed on the inside of her cheek. Noah may have mentioned Penny’s dreams but perhaps not the significance.
>
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about them. I don't think it's the stresses of life.” She rubbed at her eyes. “The bear I see is the same bear every time. Three black scars on its left cheek. The visions started before I moved here. In fact—” she broke off, shifting to remove the child’s toy from her pocket and presented it to Army “—I have carried this around since I was a child.”
The wind died down suddenly, as if it too wanted to hear the conversation. Army took the bear figurine in his hands and studied it like it was a polar bear necropsy before passing it to Noah. A look flashed across Noah’s face. Disbelief? Irritation? She had not divulged the contents of her pockets to him, even though he already knew of her visions.
“Only now, since I have been up here, I see that bear,” she pointed to the figure that Noah turned over in his hands, “in my dreams and during daytime visions. Day or night. And a man usually appears with the bear. There is the sense of fear and warning with the images, which honestly scares the crap out of me. Noah and I think the man may be the killer, but I cannot make out any details. I just see this vague, frightening shadow. And I have no idea what the bear means.”
The wind returned, tugging and wrenching at the tent. Noah shifted, handing her the small plastic toy. A trickle of apprehension ran along the back of Penny’s neck.
“Well, he hadn’t told me that,” Army’s gravelly voice sounded surprised. “You think what you are having are premonitions”
She began to nod her head, then realized the lantern that hung above their heads from the center of the tent danced with the buffeting wind and cast much of the tent in shadow, so she gave a verbal yes.
“Have you had others? Before your move here?” he asked.
“Yeah. I dreamt of the school shooting the night before it happened, but only a piece of the event. I saw the students fall on the athletic field at school,” she said, her voice low. Once again, she watched it play out, unable to do anything to stop it. If only she had visualized what was to happen to her father. Perhaps she could have done something to save him. Or at least said goodbye, given him one more hug. She shook free of the memory and persistent guilt. “The first actual vision I remember was of my own drowning when I was five.” She sheepishly looked over at the shadow that was Noah. “That’s why I don’t like swimming. I normally see images of an event. Clear but without context. The shadowed visions…they are different. They are flashes of emotion and shadows.”