by Deb Vanasse
Josh remembered her earlier words, reassuring him about Nathan. “He’s fine.” But then she’d spoken only of his shelter from the cold. That was before all of this bloodshed.
He looked up at the sound of the waiting-room door. Frank came in, with Pete holding on to one hand.
“Any news?” Frank asked.
Josh shook his head. “Not yet. They’ve got him back there. Dad’s with him.”
Pete was strangely silent. He took a step toward Josh, but Frank stopped him, directing him toward a chair. Frank whispered something in his ear, and Pete picked up a kid’s magazine from the end table.
Josh sat forward, his elbows on his knees. “I just don’t get it,” he said in a low voice.
“What?” Shannon asked.
“How Nathan was there, all of a sudden, with that bear.”
“I think—I think maybe he crawled out of her den.” She dropped her arm from his shoulder.
“Out of her den?” Anger rose in his voice. Hanging around a bear den was suicidal. “What was he thinking?”
“He seemed like he felt a sort of, well, kinship with that bear. Almost a mystical thing. When he found that empty den, he said he felt like he belonged there.”
A memory came to Josh—the look of rage in Nathan’s eyes, back in October, when he realized the bear had been mortally wounded. “My brother,” he had said accusingly. He’d meant the bear.
“He told you all of this?” Josh asked.
She nodded. “I followed his tracks and found him in the empty den. We talked. First just about Thoreau and stuff. Then he got going on the bears. He said he thought I’d understand.”
Josh imagined the two of them, huddled in the darkness of the abandoned den. He flexed his hands, then clenched them into fists. “Did you? Did you understand?”
Shannon studied him a moment. “Sort of. I understood him wanting to be close to nature. Even feeling that close to an animal. And the empty den was a warm, safe place. I think he was trying to get in touch with a part of himself there.”
Slowly, Josh released his tense grip. “But why move from there into a den with a hibernating bear?”
She shook her head. “He showed me the fresh den last time I talked to him. It was like this treasure he had uncovered. But I had no idea he’d try to get inside. Maybe it was like the ultimate test. Or maybe he just got cold.”
Josh looked Shannon in the eye. “You could have said something about a bear before we went near that second den.”
She looked away. “I know,” she said softly. “I realize that now. But when Nathan talked about the bears, he made them sound so—so honorable. And when he’d shown me the den before, the bear was out cold, hibernating.”
“But Nathan knows plenty about bears.” Josh felt the irritation rise in his voice. “Surely he knows they can wake from hibernation, even in the dead of winter. Surely he knows the risk of getting anywhere near a sow nursing newborn cubs.”
“I’m not sure any kind of risk would stop your brother,” Shannon said quietly.
Josh stood abruptly. He took a few steps to the tiny window of the waiting area and stood, staring out into the winter gray. If only he hadn’t yelled his brother’s name. Deep down, he knew that the bear most likely hadn’t wakened by accident. His voice, or his brother moving in response to it, would have startled her. And once she sensed the potential danger to her cubs . . . it was a wonder she hadn’t torn Nathan to pieces.
Josh’s father came through the swinging door of the emergency area. Frank looked up from his magazine. “How is he?”
“They’ve stabilized him,” Josh’s father replied. “For the transport to Anchorage, by ambulance.” His voice was low, unsteady.
Stabilized. It didn’t mean much. Josh got up and stood beside his father. “Let’s go, then,” he said quietly.
In the truck, Josh’s father stared grimly ahead, watching the traffic. Cars filled the lanes around them. The ambulance, lights flashing, had passed them miles back, and they could no longer hear the fading siren.
It was strange, Josh thought aimlessly. Nathan hated technology, but now his life depended on the speeding ambulance and the high-tech hospital. Nathan, who wanted above all to prove himself, to be in control, had been rendered helpless in a matter of minutes.
Josh looked at his father, whose face was set as if in stone. Driving to Wasilla, he’d asked Josh the basics of the attack, and he’d listened without response. Did he understand the horror Josh had felt? The fear at trying to bring Nathan to safety with the bear close at hand? Did he appreciate what Josh had done, or did he blame him as Josh was beginning to blame himself? The questions swirled in Josh’s mind.
They stopped at Mountain View Drive, the first light on the edge of Anchorage. Josh watched the cars move through the intersection. Each driver looked intent on a destination. When they’d lived in Anchorage, he used to study the drivers, trying to imagine where each one might be going. If someone tried to guess where he and his father were going now, Josh knew they’d miss the mark. He could scarcely believe it himself.
“Did they say what they’d do when they got him to the hospital?” Josh asked.
“A complete evaluation,” his father replied. “Probably surgery.”
Josh tried to think of some comforting words he could say to his father. Nathan would be fine. No, they didn’t know that. The doctors would take good care of him. But what did Josh know about the doctors at Providence Hospital?
They pulled away from the light with no comforting words from Josh. It was as if the burden of standing between his father and Nathan had suddenly grown far too heavy to carry any longer. Josh felt the weight of the emotions from the last few hours press upon him—disappointment, horror, anger, uncertainty.
A school bus pulled to a stop in front of them, its red lights flashing. Josh’s father tapped his fingers impatiently on the dash while they waited for the bus to unload.
High school students, getting off at their stop after a day at school, spilled out of the bus’s double doors, laughing and talking, swinging their book bags. Soon they’d be home, opening the refrigerator door for a snack, turning on the TV, calling friends on the phone to talk over the day. Living normal lives.
A normal life. Through the confusion of the moment, the uncertainty about Nathan, Josh felt his resolution grow strong. No matter how all of this turned out, he had to get back to a normal life, a life in town, where he’d go to school and have friends and maybe play hockey again. Once they got through this crisis, he had to insist. His father could let Nathan run his life, but Josh had to start running his own.
The bus closed its doors. As soon as its red lights went off, Josh’s father hit the gas and pulled around it. The gray façade of Providence Hospital loomed in the distance.
Josh looked once more at his father’s anxious face, caught up in worry over his older son. Josh looked away. Now more than ever, Nathan controlled their lives.
16
The hospital’s emergency waiting room was much like the clinic’s, only bigger. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, and low music filtered from unseen speakers. His father joined the surgeon in the pre-op room for a brief consultation.
Josh picked up a magazine and flipped through it aimlessly. Schoolgirls modeling bright spring shades of makeup smiled at him from the pages. He closed the magazine and looked up.
Shannon stood at his side. She shrugged off her jacket and sat beside him. “Dad took Pete home. He felt like this was too much for him.”
Josh nodded.
“But he said I could stay. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself,” Josh said. “I guess you’re worried about Nathan.”
“And you. That was a horrible experience.”
Josh said nothing. The buzzing of the lights seemed to grow louder.
“Pulling him away from the den,” she went on. “You must have been terrified.”
Josh shrugged. “I guess.”
S
hannon got up and walked to the window. She stood, staring out over the city. Josh looked in her direction, but he stayed in his seat.
Finally she turned and walked briskly toward where he sat, until she stood looking down at him. “Look, Josh,” she said. “I know you want to move back to town. If you’re going to live around people, you can’t just shut them out whenever you please.”
Josh stood and walked to a rack of magazines. An urgent voice came over the intercom. “Dr. Henley to emergency, please. Dr. Henley to emergency.”
He put a hand out and leaned his weight against the wall. The sounds and the bright lights seemed overwhelming.
Shannon came to his side. “Talk to me,” she persisted.
Josh rubbed his forehead. The quiet of the cabin, tucked away in miles of undisturbed snow, welcomed him in his mind, and for a moment he couldn’t think of why he had wanted so desperately to leave.
He felt Shannon set her hand on his shoulder. “I’m here for you,” she said quietly. “Talk to me.”
Josh turned and looked at her. “About what?” he conceded.
“Anything. You. Your father. Your half brother. How you got here. Where you’re going.”
“OK, that’s enough,” he interrupted. A slight smile formed on his lips.
They sat. At first the words flowed slowly. She asked about his childhood, and he told her about Chicago, about the apartment and their neighbors, about his mother’s growing restlessness. Then before he knew it, he’d told her about how his mother left and how his father had sunk into a deep depression.
“It was like my dad needed me, even though I was only eight,” Josh said.
“You must have missed your mother,” Shannon said.
“I did, a lot. At first she’d call, and she’d get me on weekends. But Dad told me she wanted her freedom, and I guess she did, because once she started dating this guy from out of town, it was like she never looked back.” Josh paused. Even though it had been so long ago, it still hurt to talk about it.
Just then his father emerged from his talk with the surgeon.
“They’re cleaning him up for surgery right now,” he explained. “They’ve got an artery to repair and some skin to transplant. But his vital signs are improving. The doctor says his chances are good.”
He paused and put a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “And the doctor said your bandaging probably saved his life.”
“That’s good, Dad,” Josh said. But at that moment, his father’s hand on his shoulder felt especially heavy.
“I should call my father,” Shannon said. “Just to let him know.”
She went off to the pay phone, and Josh was alone with his dad.
“So they’re sure he’ll be all right?” Josh asked.
“Pretty sure. Of course, there’s always a risk with surgery. And they don’t know till they get in there how much damage there has been to the arm and shoulder muscles. He may not regain full use of them.”
“That would be hard for Nathan, not to be able to do everything for himself,” Josh said.
“It would,” his father agreed.
Josh took a deep breath. “But then again, doing everything for himself got Nathan into this mess. Got all of us into this mess.”
His father sat. He stroked at his beard, as he did whenever he was thinking. Finally he spoke. “I guess you’re right,” he said softly.
Shannon came back from the phone. “Dad said to tell you he’s glad for the good news so far. He said to call when Nathan gets out of surgery. He’ll come pick me up then, with my mom and Pete. Oh, and Mom said you two are welcome to stay with us while Nathan’s in the hospital.”
Josh’s father smiled. “Much obliged. We’ll be needing a place to stay for a while, till we can figure out where to go from here.”
Josh knew where he was going, and it wasn’t far. He’d stay in town and try to get on with his life. Whether his father went along or not didn’t matter anymore. He’d figure out a way. He could get in touch with old friends, guys from his team. Someone’s family would help him out.
“Did they say how long he’d be in surgery?” Shannon asked.
“Two or three hours,” Josh’s father replied.
“In that case, maybe we should go down to the cafeteria or something,” she suggested. “For a change of scene.”
Josh half smiled. She had a bit of the same restless spirit that drove Nathan, always looking for a change. “Sounds good to me,” he said.
Josh’s father shook his head. “You two go on. I think I’ll wait here a while. Maybe go downstairs to the chapel.”
Josh hesitated. Perhaps his father needed him just now, especially if he was thinking about the chapel. His father hadn’t set foot in a church since they’d left Chicago.
He thought back over his earlier words with Shannon. His father had needed him back when he was eight and they had only each other. But now he had Nathan, and Josh had his own plans. His father would have to sort things out for himself.
“It’s a strange thing,” Josh said. He sat across from Shannon in the hospital cafeteria, sipping at a cup of bitter coffee. “I couldn’t wait to get to town. Now this. I guess I’ll be in town all right, but it won’t be like I was expecting.”
Shannon stirred her hot chocolate. “Nothing ever turns out like we expect, does it?”
Josh turned the heavy cup in his hands. “I guess not. I just thought things would be more normal if Dad and I got out of Willow Creek.”
Shannon caught his eye, and for a moment it seemed as if she was looking into his innermost self. Josh felt hot in his parka, but he couldn’t remove it, not without a shirt or even long johns underneath. Instead, he reached to unzip the coat a bit, breaking Shannon’s gaze.
“Willow Creek’s a special place,” Shannon said softly.
Josh shifted in the hard plastic chair and looked back at her. “I know. It hasn’t been all horrible. But it’s lonely.”
“Lonely isn’t necessarily bad.”
“It is when it’s forced on you, when you have no alternative. After a while, you start to wonder if you’d still know how to have friends, if you’d fit in somewhere else.”
“But you have your dad and Nathan.”
Josh drew in a deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I love my dad. For a long time we had only each other. Then he found Nathan, and everything changed.”
“But for the better, right? You’d been looking all those years, and then you found him.”
“Dad was looking. When he found him, Nathan seemed like just another guy to me. Not like a brother. Not like Pete is a brother to you. I mean, I didn’t grow up with him. We didn’t have much in common. But Dad was so drawn to him. Nathan would get to talking about something, and Dad would get all worked up about it, too.”
Shannon nodded. “I can see that. Nathan has a way about him. You know that he thinks for himself and lives what he believes.”
Josh pushed the coffee cup aside. “Without regard for anyone else.”
“But Nathan has a deep regard for nature and her creatures.”
“A deep regard for nature, maybe, but not much for common sense. Look where that’s gotten him. That’s one reason why Dad couldn’t let go of Nathan after he found him, why we had to follow him into the wilderness. He worried about him.”
Josh took a deep breath. “Not me, though. I was willing to let Nathan seal his fate with his crazy ideas.”
“Still, today, when he was in danger, you saved his life.”
Josh let her words sink in. “I did what anyone would have done. And maybe I did feel something for Nathan today that I’ve never felt before, something like a brother should feel. But still, it’s not my place to keep saving Nathan from himself. Dad can do that. Not me.”
“No matter what happens with you and your dad and Nathan, you’ll always have Willow Creek,” Shannon said.
Willow Creek. It wasn’t exactly a source of comfort, after all he’d been through.
“Like I sai
d, from the first time we visited Willow Creek, I knew it was a special place,” she continued. “I loved the wildness of it all.”
Josh let his mind go back to the cabin they’d built from logs they’d cut and peeled themselves, to the cellar with meat they’d put up for the winter. And beyond the cabin, the stands of scraggly spruce and willow, the spreading sky, the mountains rising up in the distance. There was an undeniable beauty mixed with the harsh reality.
“It was hard to leave, even knowing I’d be back,” Shannon continued. “But I had this thought, this thought that once you’ve been in the wilderness, a part of it will always be with you.”
Josh looked away from Shannon, toward the cafeteria window. Above the lights that twinkled in the growing dusk, the snow-streaked Chugach Mountains loomed. Beyond, miles of empty wilderness stretched in all directions. And somewhere in that vast expanse, nestled at the foot of the Alaska Range, was their tiny cabin at Willow Creek, where he’d spent the two hardest years of his life. And he knew she was right. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, a part of the wilderness would be with him always.
About the Author
At age twenty-one, Deb Vanasse was dropped by a bush pilot on a gravel runway in middle of the Alaska wilderness. No roads, no houses, no cars, no people—only a winding brown slough and tundra spread flat as prairie. She had come not for adventure but to live, an isolating but enriching experience that inspired this novel. Between her mountain home and glacier-based cabin, she continues to enjoy Alaska’s wild places. The author of more than a dozen books for readers of all ages, she is co-founder of the 49 Alaska Writing Center. Follow her at www.debvanasse.com and www.selfmadewriter.blogspot.com.
Copyright
The events and characters in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintended.
2013 Running Fox Books Digital Edition
Copyright © 1999 by Deb Vanasse
Cover design by Eric Hubbel; cover layout by David Marusek. Photo credit footprints in snow by Thomas Bush.
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