Warming Trend

by Karin Kallmaker

  “Someday,” Ani said as she switched off the engine, “I’m going to be a geologist here.”

  “If you get your Ph.D. they’d almost have to hire you, wouldn’t they?”

  “I’m hoping so. Some people think my dad was crazy.” Ani pulled on a parka, zipped it and drew up the hood before opening her door. “He did have some college work, but it was in Russia, and he didn’t make himself all that popular with the ivory tower folks when he first moved here back in the seventies.”

  “People thought he was a communist?”

  “Technically, he was, but politics meant nothing to him. Glaciers don’t know national boundaries. Anyway, somehow theories about ice sheets were part of the red menace. U of F was the most welcoming place, don’t get me wrong, but even so, drilling, measurements and demolition were all they certified him to do. The only person he ever got to teach about ice, about geology and history, was me.”

  The wind blew away the bitterness in Ani’s voice. Eve quickly yanked on her gloves. Shouting over the icy gusts, she asked, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “The parking lot’s a wind tunnel. It’ll be easier on the other side.”

  Her guide obviously knew the way. In the gathering gloom of night Ani was certain in her steps and Tonk had already disappeared ahead of them. Eve thought Ani must have been haunting the teaching laboratory for years. If ice was in your blood, this was the place to study it.

  Following a path that was only available in summer, Ani led her around the northernmost building and over the wooden footbridge that spanned the gap between solid ground and the glacier’s surface.

  The reflected aurora borealis temporarily dazzled Eve the moment they cleared the shadow of the building. The glacial landscape was painted with brilliant pink and green, and the dramatic moraine striping stood out in even starker contrast. Ani’s face was washed with gold. There was really nothing else to say but, “Wow.”

  “In a nutshell,” Ani agreed. “If we had the gear, we could hike and climb on down to the Chena from here.”

  Several times a week Eve drove past the dramatic panorama where the glacier emptied into the river. “Where does it start? All the way at Mt. McKinley?”

  “Not quite. Naomi Glacier is an offshoot of Ruth Glacier, which does originate below the mountain.”

  “Nice,” Eve said. “About the names.”

  “I wish it was after the Bible story, but I think the Naomi was named after somebody’s wife, not Ruth’s Naomi.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Eve said. “It’s still nice.” She paused before stepping off the bridge. “You’re sure this is safe? People fall into the crevasses all the time.”

  “The nearest drop is about twenty feet that way.” Ani pointed. “Because this is a heavily used access, we ultrasound the area regularly to make sure nothing has opened. We’re just going to go about ten feet this way. Was I right about the wind?”

  Eve nodded. Now it could be termed a light breeze.

  “Then you should trust me.” Ani held out a hand and Eve put hers into Ani’s grasp. Trust…okay. She would give that a try.

  Ani’s boots had to be fitted with Yak Trax or something similar, because she didn’t hesitate finding footing. A few shaky steps out onto the ice, however, Eve slipped. Her yelp of surprise was cut short by the firm grasp of Ani’s arms, setting her upright again.

  “Thanks.”

  Tonk loped into sight, gave Eve a look of concern, then settled into step with them. A short distance from the bridge Ani spread out the insulated reflective tarp and Tonk promptly took the middle.

  Eve pointed at the dog. “Thermal power source?”

  “None better. This is really Tonk Junior. Tonk Senior was a sled dog.”

  “I would have thought a Newfie was too big to work in harness. They’re so much larger than Huskies.”

  Ani smiled as she settled on the tarp to Tonk’s left. “They are. We weren’t a great team, but it was fun.”

  Eve sat down on Tonk’s other side. Well, no etchings in sight, and a dog this size was an effective bundling board. Tonk was unquestionably warm, panting happily, gaze riveted on the little picnic basket. “Can I give him his treat?”

  “Sure.”

  For a few moments there was just the sound of happy crunching.

  “It’s beautiful, you were right about that, too.” Eve pulled her cap down to cover her ears. The breeze blowing down from the glacier head was distinctly chill, but it lacked the true bite of winter. “I don’t know about staying out all night though.”

  “Night is technically over in about three hours.”

  “True. Okay. Until sunrise.”

  Ani spread the blanket over them and the conversation, thankfully, didn’t turn to the latest rock bands or social events in town that Eve had no time to attend, unless she was catering them. Instead, Ani talked quietly about the shimmer of light, how the sharpest reflection came from newly frozen ice, while the older, cloudier surfaces absorbed light. A walk across the glacier’s surface could touch ice that dated back six months to six centuries, to six millennia, or more. Eve’s questions were patiently answered and Ani didn’t seem to think it a non sequitur when Eve brought up the similarities of ice crystals in glacier-making to the creation of ice cream.

  After a while they had the graham sandwiches.

  “Delicious, thank you. And so simple.”

  “If I had time to be fancy I could have added a touch of Grand Marnier or just simple vanilla.” Eve rolled the dates, almonds and chocolate across the surface of her tongue one more time. The graham cracker was the perfect complement, but it was all a bit dry. It could be a recipe worth developing homemade energy bars. Surely she could make them less expensively than the ones from the grocery. She passed Ani an Aquapod. “Or a hint of orange zest.”

  “Or a bit of coffee.”

  “Oh. That could work.” She broke off a piece of graham cracker. “Is this okay for Tonk?”

  “He’s never met a food he couldn’t eat.”

  “Chocolate’s bad for dogs, though.” Tonk lifted the graham cracker from Eve’s hand with a swipe of the tongue. She mopped her fingers on her jeans.

  “He’ll eat it. He’ll eat stuff five days dead, too. And give it back to me later.”

  “Pleasant.”

  Ani ruffled Tonk’s considerable head full of fur. “Woman’s best friend.”

  “The lights are getting less pink.”

  Ani glanced at her watch. “Halfway to sunrise.”

  The whirling pulsation of the lights was mesmerizing. Green streaked toward gold, then both split to let pink and a tinge of orange flow upward. Eve asked, “Does it all make you feel small?”

  “Not really,” Ani answered. “No more than the stars. I’m filled with awe, though. Awe that what they’re made of, what this is made of” She gestured at the expanse of the glacier’s surface. “It’s what we’re made of.”

  “So if this glacier is moving at three feet a year, and it started at Mt. McKinley…a hundred miles or so?”

  “Not by the route the glacier takes, but close enough.”

  Thinking hard, Eve murmured, “Three feet a year, a hundred miles, so”

  “A hundred and seventy thousand yards from here to the terminus, give or take.”

  “So, a hundred and seventy thousand years for this patch of ice to reach here.”

  “Well not this patch. The surface of the glacier is largely static. The flow is deeper down.”

  Eve nodded. “That’s…awe-inspiring, you’re right.”

  “And if we were able to drill down the mile depth of this glacier we would find remnants of plants and animals we’ve never seen before.”

  “Is that why when that huge crevasse opened a while back it was such a big deal?”

  “Sure. Nature made studying the stratigraphy of the glacier easy. When we need to, we open it up with explosives. That takes time, money and know-how. My father did that. He was very good at small charges to
encourage natural sheeting and big charges for avalanche control on the ice fields above populated areas.”

  “Kind of like those demolitions people who can cave-in a building in place.”

  “Yeah experts at things that go boom.”

  Eve traced the slow rise of a shimmering eerie green as it arched over the other lights. The yellows had changed from lemon to buttercup. The tip of her nose was getting numb. “How about the hot chocolate now?”

  “Cold already?”

  A quick glance across Tonk’s expansive back revealed an indulgent smile. Ani didn’t look like she felt the cold at all. “Yes, ’fraid so. Most people would be.”

  “True. Don’t worry, I’m not some macho idiot who thinks cold like this is mind over matter. My genes go back a thousand years in Siberia. I’ll feel it, just not quite as fast.”

  “It’s a mild night, actually. I’m a bit of a wimp,” Eve admitted. She poured steaming cocoa into the Thermos lid. “I forgot to bring mugs. We’ll have to share.”

  “Not a problem.” Ani took the cup and sipped with an appreciative noise. “And nobody who lives in Fairbanks is a wimp. Juneau, a mere twenty below for a record freeze when that’s our average winter temp I think that makes them the wimps.”

  “Hey,” Eve said in mock outrage. “I was born in Juneau. Don’t you dare say that proves your point, either.”

  “I wouldn’t, not when you can make hot chocolate that tastes like this.”

  “It’s the dash of Irish cream.” They finished the hot chocolate over the next little while, remarking on the change in the lights as sunrise grew nearer. The pink and red tones went fuchsia, then winked out, while the greens did a slow fade into the lightening dawn sky.

  Tawny yellows were all that was left when Eve said, “My rear end is going numb.” She startled the sleeping Tonk by getting up. She had to laugh at herself. “My thighs went to sleep.”

  Tonk joined her in jumping up and down, finding it a great game. This is glamorous, Eve thought, as she lurched from side to side in an attempt to wake up her nerves. The pins and needles started and she couldn’t help but giggle.

  She was vigorously rubbing the insides of her thighs when Ani said, “Do you need help with that?”

  “Keep your distance,” Eve warned, but her attempt at a stern front was undercut by a gasping laugh. “Don’t you dare.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Eve surprised herself by impulsively asking, “Are you getting over someone?”

  Ani looked surprised. “No.”

  “Good.” Eve vigorously rubbed her thighs.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Been there, done that, that’s all.” Ani still looked inquiring. “My last girlfriend, not quite two years ago, left me for her ex, who had broken up with the woman my ex got dumped for.”

  “Ouch.” Ani waved a hand at Eve. “You’re kind of fun to watch. A sort of modern dance.”

  “At least I’m warming up.”

  Tonk, ready to play, let out a bellow when Ani got up. “Is it a twist like this?”

  Ani’s contortions were comic and Eve truly hoped she didn’t look that clumsy. As soon as her thigh muscles cooperated she turned her own gyrations into a bona fide Twist, the only dance she knew. Ani caught on right away and they moved closer together.

  “Come on, baby,” Ani sang in a soft, clear tone, “and go like this.” She held out her hand and Eve didn’t hesitate, twirling in close, then spinning back to where she’d started.

  This is crazy, she thought, dancing on a glacier at three o’clock in the morning. Crazy and alive. All work, no play, had made Eve a dull girl.

  Tonk’s hard nudge into Eve’s hip brought her back to the present and she sighed and scratched behind his ears.

  She petted the furry head and looked north at the boiling green and gold lights. The pink had already faded for the night. Nature’s fireworks would be over in just a few more hours and she wasn’t going to linger any longer, reluctantly realizing, once again, that since Ani had left she’d gone back to dull girl Eve. She knew how to laugh, she knew how to have fun. Life was a good table wine, basic and reliable. She allowed a brief relapse into bitterness. Thanks to Ani, she knew that wasn’t all there could be.

  She brushed her teeth and slipped into an old T-shirt and equally soft sleep pants. New restaurant, old business finally closed…it was time to live again. She snuggled into bed with the familiar sound of Tonk similarly settling down. When she closed her eyes the northern lights played across her mental sky, and in the distance she could still hear music, and part of her was still dancing, round and round.

  Chapter 3

  “Two Conch Indies, four lime margaritas, Stoli on the rocks and an Amaretto with orange juice.” Lisa leaned wearily into the bar. “One more hour. I’m so tired, but I swear it’ll be worse to go outside. Maybe we can sleep here.”

  “Tempting, isn’t it? I’m all but sleeping in the bathtub with the fan blowing on me.” A heat wave had hit the already muggy summer, and the last two days had been scorching. Ani’s own nightly bathtub soaks were the only way she was getting decent sleep.

  “I’m envious. All I have is a not-so-effective shower. I must have rinsed off six times last night. I’m glad to be working here right now, even if the freezer units are having a hard time keeping the tables right.”

  As welcome as the cold temperatures were in the club, this environment was artificial far too dry, and the ice varied too much in texture day-to-day to feel like anything but the inside of a freezer. The tourists loved it, and so did some of the locals, but that didn’t make it like home. Ani wasn’t sure she really remembered what cold meant. She was about to express her opinion of the weather with a choice expletive when a table on the far side of the dance floor crashed onto its side. Ani peered toward the incident it took quite a hit to move one of these tables. There didn’t seem to be a fight, so she locked the register and went to help the ice groomer.

  Halfway across the long room she realized that the ice under her feet was too soft. The tables were too shiny several had some standing water on their surface. Crap. That meant the freezer units were off, and more tables were going to topple as guests started losing their footing. Visions of lawsuits danced in her head. At least there wasn’t the risk of broken glass. It wasn’t just novelty that made them use nothing but barware made from ice, it was practicality. Broken glass on ice floors was invisible, and the floors couldn’t be vacuumed, they were groomed with something like a small Zamboni.

  The bouncer, who wore the same kind of cleated boots that Ani preferred, began lending an arm to patrons as they cleared the club. Tabs underway were forgiven, and tokens to waive the cover charge for another night were handed out. The main doors were opened to let out the crowd more quickly, but the rush of sweltering humid air only added to the dripping walls and slippery floors.

  “Okay, kids,” the assistant manager announced, holding to a pole to keep from falling. “We have a major meltdown in two units. I already had my orders from the kahunas at corporate that next time it happened to go ahead and replace them with the more efficient models. Plus we’re going to do a complete melt and clean out, refloor the dance area and redecorate.”

  “How long is that going to take?” Lisa was wringing her hands.

  “Ten days to two weeks. Sorry nothing I can do about it. We’re an ice bar and we got no ice.”

  Ani heaved a stoic sigh. They’d had an outage last year that had lasted a week. Fortunately, she had the savings to tide her over.

  Lisa, as they walked out the back corridor together, was far more concerned. “Great. No job for ten days maybe two weeks? I was just starting to get on my feet. TBE stuck me with the cell phone contract and I had to buy a car because my name wasn’t on the registration even though I paid for half.”

  Over the last ten days, Ani had heard all about the financial situation left from “The Bitch Ex.” She tried to be encouraging. “Maybe it won’t be that
bad.”

  Lisa was almost in tears. “I can’t go two weeks without a paycheck, and I’m not going back to dancing. This is what I get for not having a nest egg. TBE took my nest egg!”

  “Dancing?” It was the first Ani had heard of it. Given Lisa’s graceful voluptuousness, the word exotic immediately sprang to mind.

  “Not really. More like Lap Sitting and Grinding at that dump near the airport.” Lisa ran her hands through her already wild hair. “What am I going to do?”

  “Come on,” Ani said. “Let’s go find something to eat.”

  “Nothing’s open but the after-hours clubs,” Lisa predicted.

  She turned out to be right, so Ani offered the meager contents of her kitchen and full use of the bathtub, the offer of which vastly improved Lisa’s mood. Lisa proved herself imaginative by making thick instant coffee, adding slugs of chocolate syrup and pouring it all over tall glasses of ice. She didn’t waste any time filling the tub with cold water, stripping down and climbing in. She wasn’t exactly shy in the process.

  “Oh, stop averting your eyes.” She flicked water in Ani’s direction. “You had your chance. The least you could do is leer a little. I need an ego boost.” She leaned back in the tub, eyes closed as she sipped her iced coffee.

  Ani sat on the commode and had to admit that nothing was wrong with Lisa’s body, and a great deal was right. Yet she couldn’t even conjure up a fantasy. Still, there was nothing wrong with flattery. “Okay, I’m leering.”

  Lisa opened one eye. “You are not.”

  “I’m trying.” If she had a tail, she’d have wagged it for emphasis.

  “You are frigid, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

  “How come you’re not freaked about no work for two weeks?”

  “I have something put away for a rainy day. I’m Russian on both sides. We believe that life is meant to be a worst-case scenario, and we plan accordingly.” Given her simple life, she lived off her cash tips and banked her paychecks. She sipped the iced concoction, then went to find some coffee liqueur. After doctoring both their glasses, she settled back on her perch and contemplated the next two weeks. She’d only known Lisa a short while, and it wasn’t saying much for her social skills that Lisa was currently her best friend. She had liked it that way, she reminded herself, prided herself on it, in fact. “I could loan you some money.”