“Will that be all?” asked the shopkeeper again.
“Yes, that’s it,” said Liana, taking the trap and inspecting it in the weak winter sunlight coming in the front window.
“Will you be needing any bait? I’ve got some dried salmon the martens can’t keep away from.”
“I don’t think so. Just this stuff, and please make sure to deliver the canned goods to that cabin,” she said, handing a few nuggets to the man. The man smiled broadly as he pulled a scale from behind the counter to weigh the nuggets and make change. “That won’t be necessary,” said Liana, opening the door.
“Have a good day,” said the shopkeeper cheerfully, calculating his substantial tip.
Liana stepped into the crisp morning air and stowed the trap and shoe polish deep in her big jacket pocket. She looked in both directions and decided to walk down Broadway. The snow was piled loose in the road and many of the boardwalks were clear. Narrow paths twisted through waist deep banks of snow to stores, cabins, and tents. Her breath held heavy in the brisk morning air and she walked deliberately. The town was still waking, and few people were about.
At the end of Fourth Street, Liana spotted Cody’s house on a steep hillside. It was a log cabin, slightly bigger than most. The cabin had two small windows in the front, trimmed with white lace curtains. A dark green door boasted a brass knocker shaped like an upside-down fist. It was a modest home for someone as rich and powerful as Cody, but he had another house in Seattle said to be one of the grandest painted ladies on the west coast. His wife and kids lived there, but he hadn’t seen them in years.
Liana stood under a large spruce tree a half block away. She stashed her bag of new clothes between the roots and opened the tin of shoe polish. She started to spread it on the metal trap. The cold made spreading the paste difficult, but Liana was able to coat the trap with thick, dark clumps. In a few minutes the trap was entirely covered in the thick grease.
Liana walked toward Cody’s place. She slipped silently through the open gate and into the back yard along a narrow path that lead to the outhouse. She smiled, remembering Henry’s comments about the outhouse at the cabin being ten yards too far from the cabin in the winter and ten yards too close in the summer.
After the trap was set, Liana left Cody’s yard. She looked back at the cabin and felt conflicted. Henry had never told any stories about revenge. As she stood under the spruce tree, she felt a momentary pang of regret. But Cody had taken so much from her she didn’t feel enough remorse to alter her decision. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she turned to walk back downtown.
The sun was higher in the sky and Liana’s stomach was declaring itself hungry again. She walked the boardwalk until she saw a tent restaurant selling donuts and coffee. She pushed back the canvas flap and sat at a long bench with several men. The tent was warm and unbearably humid. A woodstove crackled and popped. The men all had straggly beards and the sallow faces of veteran Stampeders—hungry and exhausted.
She asked the cook for a basin and some soap. He warned her she would incur a nickel surcharge. Liana nodded. Within moments, an enameled metal basin of warm water slid across the table toward her. Liana submerged her blackened hands into the lukewarm water with an inaudible gasp. The harsh lye soap and shoe polish quickly turned the water an opaque, oily mess. When her hands were cleaner, she stood and carried the basin outside, where she threw the water into the snow and wiped her hands dry on her pants. Returning to the tent, she thanked the cook and sat at the table to sip coffee and quietly enjoy a donut.
The men were discussing a new survey. The chief surveyor was already hiring a line crew to help make sense of the imprecise staking of the gold claims during the previous winter. The men were optimistic that there would be some valuable “fractions” as a result. As this was important talk of gold, nobody really noticed Liana and she didn’t say anything until she paid. Once again she took a small nugget from her pocket and smiled as she emerged into the brightness of the cold morning.
Liana trudged toward a yard behind the police barracks near the river. Before she got within spitting distance of the yard, huskies began to howl and bark at her approach. Fifty or sixty dogs were chained to trees and beside them sat a lone white canvas tent with a black stovepipe thrusting above it. In front of each dog was a metal bucket or bowl. Two or three of the dogs slept curled in the snow, their tails over their noses to keep them warm. But the rest of the dogs barked and howled and jumped at the end of their chains. Liana stood at the front of the tent, where dog sleds rested against log supports.
“Hello. I’m looking for Nelson,” she called above the din.
“He’s gone. He’s outside for the winter. Got sick,” said a youthful voice from within the tent.
“Well, can I talk to you about hiring a team then?” asked Liana.
“Sure, we can talk. C’mon in,” instructed the voice.
Liana pulled away the heavy tent flap and stepped into the warm, dark interior. Sitting in the corner on a pile of furs was a boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen.
“I’m Nelson’s nephew, Drake,” he said.
“Hi. I’m Liana.”
“You look familiar.”
“I once lived in Dawson,” she answered haltingly. “It was a long time ago.”
“Where’re you headed?” Drake asked.
“The coast, and I have to leave today.”
“Why now? There’s a horse sleigh going out on Friday. You should take the Royal Mail. It’d be safer.”
“No. I have to leave now,” she insisted. “I can’t say why and nobody can know that you are taking me—for both our sakes.”
“Sounds intriguing,” he drawled.
“Can you do it? Can you take me out?” asked Liana insistently.
“Of course I can, but it will cost you,” Drake said.
“I don’t care about the cost. I care about leaving as soon as we can.”
“Well, I can get you to Anderson Roadhouse tonight. I usually skip about half the road houses, and if the weather isn’t too cold, we can even run in shifts with lanterns.”
Liana felt a sense of relief wash over her frame. “That sounds good. How many dogs will we bring?”
“How much stuff are you carrying?” he asked.
“Just what I’m wearing. I travel light.”
“It will cost you a hundred plus meals and lodging at the roadhouses,” he said confidently. “I need to take some dried salmon for the dogs; that’ll cost. But we’ll be in Whitehorse in no time.”
“That sounds good,” said Liana. “Can I help you get things prepared?”
“Yeah, you can water the dogs. Start by going to the river. There’s an auger beside the little red flag on the river.” He looked at Liana and doubted her experience with an auger. “It was opened last night so you probably will only have a couple of inches of ice to cut.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t risk being seen with you. Is there anything inside I can do?”
“You really are on the run,” said Drake, somewhat surprised.
“Let’s just leave it at that. Tell me how much salmon you need; I’ll arrange for that and pay for it. Then I’ll walk outside of town toward the creeks. I will meet you where the Klondike meets the Yukon.”
“That path is well travelled. You may want to wait until after dark,” suggested Drake.
“How about if we meet at seven at the forks?” she said.
“That will work. For now, why don’t you go back to my cabin and make up some beaver and rice for the dogs,” said Drake, pointing to his cabin next door. “We’ll freeze what they don’t eat and take it with us.”
“I can do that,” replied Liana, pleased to have something useful to do.
“The beaver meat is in the cache.”
Liana handled the salmon order, then went to the cabin and lifted an enormous bucket on top of the stove after filling it with snow. Eagerly she climbed a narrow ladder to a cache about a dozen feet off the ground. She pu
shed open a small hatch and reached around in the dark until she found the beaver meat. Once inside the cabin, she dumped the meat into the pot; it was dark and rich with fat. Liana thought about how welcome this meat would have been on the island. She left the improvised pot to cook and walked back to town.
Liana thought about going back to the hotel and looking for any acquaintances but reasoned that some might be working for Cody. She knew at least one of them sometimes slept in his bed. “If it wasn’t for Henry,” she thought, “I would be in the cemetery above town—or rotting out in the underbrush.”
She knew it was best to get out of town before Cody even knew she was gone. But first she went to a washhouse and asked for a bath. She gave the attendant a nugget and took a towel and a bar of soap. She walked into a tiny room that held a huge tin tub full of steaming water. The window was covered in a thick layer of ice that kept her privacy from the outside and filtered a thin, translucent glow in the bright afternoon sunlight. She quickly stripped and dangled a foot in the scalding water. When she lowered herself into the tub, she felt overwhelmed and lost her breath. She spent the next hour turning the water a grayish hue. Once the bath had cooled to lukewarm, she dried herself and dressed in the new clothes. She tossed her grimy old duds in the corner to be thrown out and inspected herself in a mirror hanging on the wall. She turned to view the scars on each of her hips and smiled broadly. Liana could hear a wolf calling somewhere from the street below.
Liana walked out of the washhouse a new person. Her neatly coiled hair steamed in the cold and she proudly strode down the street. She returned to Drake’s tent and asked if she could help prepare the dogs. He commented that she looked different; Liana surprised herself with a blush. Drake had her ladle scoops of warm broth and beaver meat into the dogs’ bowls. They in turn howled in frenzy, their lips quivering in anticipation. The smell of the stew made Liana choke but to the dogs it was nirvana. They liked salmon head stew even better, Drake told her. Drake carried the nourishing meal to the screaming huskies while Liana watched from the cabin. One dog looked like a wolf and Liana walked closer to see. It was larger than the other dogs.
“Drake, is that one a wolf?” she asked.
“Blue, well, half of her is,” he said proudly. “When her Ma was in heat, a wolf pack was in the area.” They watched Blue devour her food. “We’re lucky they didn’t just leave a collar. That’s happened a lot around here.”
“She looks one hundred percent wolf,” said Liana.
“Everybody thinks so,” Drake continued. “Makes some people uncomfortable. I once caught a guy in the yard that wanted her hide,” he said, shaking his head. “Worth a lot of money, she is.”
Liana couldn’t stop staring at Blue. “She’s beautiful.”
“If it was up to me we would have kept the litter,” he said wistfully, “but all we kept was Blue. The best lead dog in the Yukon, I figure.”
Drake walked away from the dogs and began to prepare the sled and the lines. He inspected the runners and joints and positioned a couple of dusty caribou hides in the basket for Liana to sit on, as well as a buffalo robe to cover her. He laid out the dogs’ harnesses and attachments in front of the sled. Testing, Drake stepped on the sled’s brake and threw an anchor into the snow. That accomplished, he suggested they go up the street for pork and beans and waffles.
“You’ll feel better starting out with a good feed in your belly,” Drake explained. “Nobody will think anything about it. They all think I’m too young to run a sled.”
“I guess it’s a good idea,” replied Liana, her stomach grumbling. “But we can’t risk being seen together. Instead, why don’t you go and get us something and we can eat it here,” she suggested, handing Drake a nugget. He left the cabin and returned several minutes later with a steaming butter bucket full of beans and a stack of waffles wrapped in a faded cloth.
They sat at the table in the cabin and Drake served two enormous bowls of beans and pork that smelled only slightly less offensive than the slop the dogs had gulped down. A greasy film coated the top of the bowl. Drake ate his in large mouthfuls that he washed down with cups of weak black coffee diluted with evaporated milk. Liana watched in amazement as this wraith of a boy ate bowl after bowl; she could swallow only a single serving before feeling stuffed. As he finished his last helping, Drake used a waffle to wipe his mouth and the dregs, and then hungrily devoured it as well. Leftover waffles went into his pocket.
Drake then began the final preparations as Liana walked out under the darkening sky. The dogs began to howl in anticipation as soon as they saw Drake walking toward the river. The sound was deafening, yet did not draw any attention from the townsfolk, who were used to the cacophony of canines. Liana thought about the wolves and the way they sang in unison.
Walking away from town felt good to Liana. Within ten minutes she was in the darkened forest and away from prying eyes. As she walked she thought about Cody and his small world. The heyday of Dawson City was over, and Liana thought this was a good thing. She followed a trail rutted with footprints and wagon wheels. She covered the few miles with miraculously little effort, and as she approached the forks of the river she could see Drake’s lantern on the Yukon. The dogs were silent.
Drake took off his rucksack and placed it in the sled. “You can sit on that later if you want.” Liana could see the nine dogs attached to the sled in the lamplight. Blue’s head seemed thinner and more angular than it had in town, and even in the lantern light Liana could see she had bright blue eyes. Having Blue in front comforted Liana and she settled into Drake’s confidence that everything was going to be all right.
“I’ll walk in front of them until we get going,” Drake said. “Why don’t you unhook the anchor and walk behind until we’re sorted?”
Liana pulled up the snow anchor and hooked it into the litter. Drake started running the team on a trail along the river. “Jump in!” he yelled. Liana flopped into the front of the sled on the buffalo hides. The team quickly began to pass Drake, who climbed onto the back of the sled as it pulled up adjacent to him and balanced his feet on its skis.
“Gee! Gee!” Drake hollered, and Blue led the team to the right, away from the forest.
Liana looked behind her toward Dawson City. She could make out the faint glow of lights on the mountain ridges behind town. “Good riddance!” yelled Liana. The dog sled glided toward the coast. Liana huddled in her parka and thought about Henry and everything she had gone through. Thanks for sharing your stories, Henry; I haven’t disappointed you.
***
Cody woke early the next day and sat up in the darkness of the arctic morning. Sleeping next to him was one of his “entertainers.” She barely stirred under the heavy quilts as Cody slipped out of bed. He pulled a fur coat over his red, full body long johns and stepped into a pair of knee-high boots he kept next to the door. In the North, women used chamber pots, but men like Cody always used outhouses.
Cody stumbled into the cold twilight and briskly walked along the backyard path to the outhouse. He opened the door, turned, hung his coat on a ten-penny nail, and dropped the buttoned panel covering his behind. He winced at the cold as he sat on the frigid wooden seat. He tried to produce as quickly as possible and within moments was successful. His steaming feces dropped into the abyss but connected with resistance. Instantaneously, a loud snap rang in the morning’s silence. Before he could summon a thought, Cody felt his testicles sever in the metal trap’s teeth. He fell forward into the daylight, drooling a guttural moan, paralyzed by shock and pain. He rocked in the snow momentarily and then mercifully blacked out. The snow at the outhouse door steamed with bright blood. The pale sky above the distant mountains was dull under a bright sliver of sun.
10
Liana squinted in the brightness, the wolf’s cry filling her soul. She realized that she was back on the island. In that instant she had lived a lifetime and glimpsed what was possible. She was hurtling over the steely river with her right leg pointed toward th
e ice on the far side. She shrieked a mad groan as she arced over the gap and away from the miserable little island. She knew she was close to escaping the solitude and the bottomless cold.
As the toes of her right foot glanced the snow on the bank, Liana felt her other leg start to drag into the river. Instinctively she bent her torso toward the forest and tried to grab the ice. Her foot and then leg broke the surface of the river as she madly tried to grasp its hard surface. Her efforts were fruitless; Liana spun backwards and with an angry splash was swallowed by the river.
Liana slumped into the dense cold of the river. The icy water enveloped her with barely a whisper. Her limp body slowly dropped to the bottom and she bounced off the gravel in disbelief. Mercilessly, her body bobbed to the surface, where her face emerged from the river for a single defeated breath. The undulating tide turned her face to the faded sky. She did not try to swim to either shore.
Liana could see the wolf standing at the edge of the forest. His sorrowful eyes met hers with the compassion of a friend. The wolf raised its head to the pale sky and cried a last howl for Liana. She felt grateful for the wolf waking her from her icy slumber and giving her hope and a chance of escape. The wolf soon dropped its head to watch Liana disappear downstream.
Liana drifted down the lead between the icy banks for a few moments. The valley was quiet except for her heavy breaths and the pounding of her heart. Liana thought about her mother and father and Henry and remembered a kinder time.
“I can’t wait to hear your voices again!” she hollered to the sky. Her voice echoed downriver and trailed off into the forest. She closed her eyes and thought about how close she had come to surviving the island. She heard the raven and the wolves and the snowstorm and felt the dull fire in the sky shine on her plaintive lips. Her sallow frame spun in the slow current of the river, and when she opened her eyes she felt the hunger of her heart.
An Island Between Two Shores Page 12