Polar (Prequel): The Turnagain Arm

by Julie Flanders

  “Why were you asking for me?” he asked, continuing to speak in the stranger’s tongue. “How did you know my name?”

  “I heard one of the camp workers mention it,” the blond man said. “When I heard the name I knew you’d be someone I could speak to.”

  “Speak to about what?”

  “About finding work. And learning English.” The man smiled a disarming, but somehow also chilling, smile. “I’m afraid I know very little.”

  Vasyl turned back towards his bar. “I’m not a tutor, my friend. You’ll have to look elsewhere. There are plenty of folks around here who can speak Russian and teach you English, you’ll see.”

  Before Vasyl knew it, the man was in front of him again. What the hell?

  “I’m afraid that hasn’t been my experience.” The man smiled again. “Please, I’m not asking you to help me. I want to work.”

  Vasyl gestured towards the door. “There’s plenty of work for you out there on the rail.”

  “Yes,” the man nodded. “I’ve been doing that. But I find it so tedious. I was hoping for a job here where I could interact with more people and not just hammer spikes into wood all day long. I much prefer working at night anyway. I could work nights for you here.”

  Vasyl felt his wife’s hand on his arm and turned to glance at her.

  “What’s going on, Vasyl?”

  He gestured towards the blond man. “This Russian wants a job here. Says he’s been working on the rails and he’s had enough of it. He wants to work at night instead. And he wants me to help him learn English.”

  “Ask him why he’s wearing Kenneth’s coat!” Rebecca shrieked, alerting everyone in the bar to the fact that she had composed herself and was back on the attack.

  Vasyl looked at the man and had to agree with Rebecca that the coat did seem familiar. He wouldn’t have been able to say it was Kenneth’s, but who was he to argue with Rebecca? If anyone would know about Kenneth’s clothing, she would.

  “She says your coat belongs to one of my employees,” he said to the man in Russian. “Where did you get it?”

  “I found it this morning down by the water. My old one was so torn up I decided to wear this one even though it doesn’t really fit.” The man grinned sheepishly at the sleeves which fell far short of his wrists.

  “He says he found the coat,” Vasyl said to Rebecca, anxious to appease her before she screamed again. “Down by where your boyfriend was supposed to be fishing for me.”

  Rebecca collapsed back into one of the chairs and burst into tears. “Kenneth wouldn’t leave his coat behind if he ran away.”

  Vasyl couldn’t argue with this statement. Even a man as thick as MacNeil wouldn’t leave his only coat behind. This was Alaska, after all, and winter was close at hand. But at this point, he was so tired of hearing Rebecca cry that he was past the point of caring what had happened to the missing Kenneth MacNeil.

  “Vasyl,” Lara said. “If Kenneth doesn’t come back you’re going to need more help here. Why don’t you give this man the job he wants? It will help both of you. He can learn English and you’ll have the help you need.”

  Vasyl shook his head. “I don’t want a Russian working here with me. You don’t know them, Lara. You can’t trust them.”

  Lara shook her head. “Nonsense. You can trust them as well as you can trust anyone else.”

  Vasyl scowled. “That’s proof you don’t know them then.”

  And how would she? An American with Icelandic heritage, Lara had never been exposed to the horrors of Mother Russia like he had.

  “The man wants to work. You need someone to work. For now, how can you lose?”

  Before Vasyl could counter, she continued, shushing him with her hand.

  “If he does something you don’t like you fire him, simple as that.” She glanced at Aleksei, who had been staring at both of them with the gaze Vasyl found more and more unnerving. “I think I like him,” she said.

  “You like the look of him, more likely,” Vasyl said with a grunt. “He looks like your kind, yeah? Almost Nordic looking, isn’t he?”

  Lara grinned at him, always enjoying the chance to tease her husband. “Russian or Nordic, he’s handsome, I know that much. And yet I’m stuck with my Ukrainian. Such a pity.”

  Vasyl turned red as she patted him on his belly and kissed his cheek before walking off towards the kitchen. He looked back at the blond man in front of him.

  “So you know my name. What’s yours, then?”

  “Nechayev. Aleksei Nechayev.”

  “Well Mr. Nechayev, my wife seems to think I should hire you.”

  “Your wife is wise as well as beautiful.”

  Vasyl rolled his eyes, grateful that Lara couldn’t understand that if she was still in earshot. She would have lapped it up with a spoon, no question.

  “It so happens I’m short-handed at the moment and could use the help. If you think you can learn English here more power to you, but I’ll be damned if I’ll spend my time teaching you.”

  Aleksei nodded. “I understand.”

  “Fine then, you’re hired.” Vasyl held up his hand as if to caution Aleksei before he continued. “But I’ll tell you upfront I don’t like your kind.”

  Vasyl saw a flicker of surprise and bewilderment flash across Aleksei’s face.

  “My kind?” he asked.

  “Russians,” Vasyl said. “What did you think I meant?”

  Aleksei’s features softened into a smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He cleared his throat. “May I ask why you don’t like my kind, Mr. Dzubenko?”

  “Only a Russian would have the gall to ask. I told you I’m Ukrainian. That’s not reason enough for you?”

  “I’m sorry, I…”

  “Never mind,” Vasyl said. “The point remains; I don’t like you or your countrymen. You screw up, you’re fired. You understand me?”

  “I certainly do.”

  “Good. There’s a tent outside you can stay in – belonged to the idiot whose coat you’re wearing. You might as well take his tent too. I think we all know he isn’t coming back.”

  Aleksei nodded and stood stock still, obviously waiting for further instructions.

  “If you want to work, you start now,” Vasyl said. “Go back to the kitchen and Lara will get you an apron. You can start cleaning what little fish we’ve got today.” He scowled, remembering Aleksei’s inability to converse with his wife. “Just say apron to Lara, can you say that? Apron?”

  Aleksei sounded out the word. “Apron.”

  “There you go. You just spoke English.” Vasyl gestured towards the kitchen. “Now get going.”

  He felt Rebecca’s eyes boring into him and turned to her as Aleksei walked away.

  “How could you?” she said. “Don’t you care at all about Kenneth?”

  “No Rebecca, I don’t. I care about my business and I care about keeping this saloon going. Whatever mess your boyfriend got himself into is no concern of mine.”

  “You’re heartless!” the girl cried, running out of the saloon.

  “Good riddance to ya,” Vasyl called after her.

  He knew she wouldn’t be gone long, and her outrage over Kenneth would be replaced by her need to eat and earn a living. He’d bet his life savings she’d be back in the saloon tomorrow like nothing happened, smiling and looking for as many tricks as she could get once the rail workers came in the evening to spend their day’s wages. Vasyl wasn’t the only one who could easily forget about Kenneth MacNeil.

  And as much as he hated having a Russian under his roof, he realized that Lara was right and it didn’t matter all that much. All that mattered was that the saloon continued to operate successfully. Vasyl had never been happier with his business than he was here in the Turnagain Arm camp. With its coastline butting up against mountains, the area reminded him of home and his childhood along the Black Sea. He was content and felt at home for the first time since he’d come to Alaska. So when it came to getting what he needed to keep
his business and his home running smoothly, he’d hire the devil himself if need be.

  It was just as well it hadn’t come to that.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  Lara set the candle she was carrying on the bedside table and crawled into bed next to her husband, who was flat on his back and apparently contemplating the ceiling of their small apartment on the second floor of their saloon.

  “Penny for your thoughts, love,” she said as she blew out the candle and settled back into her pillows, her hands resting on her stomach.

  “I was thinking about Nechayev.”

  “What about him?”

  “I don’t like him.”

  Lara smiled. “So tell me what else is new? You haven’t liked him since he first walked through our door. You don’t like the Russians. I’m well aware of that now, Vasyl.”

  Vasyl shook his head. “It’s not just that. There’s something off about him.”

  “I don’t think so…”

  Vasyl interrupted before she could say more. “Look at how quickly he’s learned English. How long has he been here, two weeks? He speaks English as well as I do.”

  “He’s a fast learner. What’s wrong with that?”

  “No one is that fast. I think he was lying about not being able to speak English when he showed up here.”

  “Why on earth would he do that?”

  Vasyl shrugged. “I don’t know. But he must have been.”

  “Some people are simply skilled at learning languages. And he hasn’t exactly had a choice, has he? You’ll hardly speak Russian to him. And none of the rest of us can speak his language. When you’re thrown into a situation like that, you have to learn quickly.”

  “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to here? Do you not remember that I couldn’t speak a word of your language when I came here from Siberia? I had to learn it too, just like Nechayev.”

  “So you’re upset because he’s learned it more quickly than you did?”

  Vasyl turned onto his side and faced his wife. “Do you really take me for that big of a fool? Am I that petty?”

  Lara caressed her husband’s cheek with her hand. “You are petty when it comes to this young man, darling. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. He’s done nothing to deserve your hostility.”

  Vasyl returned to his back with a grimace. “So you’re as enchanted with our Russian friend as the rest of the camp seems to be.”

  “I’m not enchanted with him. But the fact you would say such a thing proves my point. Why are you so jealous of this man? I’ve never known you to act this way.”

  “The problem is not with me. The problem is with the rest of you. This damn Russian strolls into the camp and suddenly every last one of you seems to be under some kind of spell when he’s around. Jesus, Lara, even you stare at him like a silly schoolgirl.”

  “I do not,” Lara said, an edge of anger creeping into her voice. “I treat Aleksei like I treat everyone else who’s worked for us. No different than I treated Kenneth MacNeil or any of the rest of them.”

  Vasyl scoffed and stared at the wall.

  “He’s a handsome young man, Vasyl, there’s no point in denying that. But I’m not under any sort of spell when I look at him. He works hard and he’s always very polite to both of us. He’s friendly to everyone who comes to the bar and he keeps their drinks filled. If people like him, that’s why. There isn’t anything more to it than that.”

  “Fine, Lara. You win. I don’t care to argue with you when all I want to do is get some sleep.”

  “That’s something else I like about Aleksei.”

  “What? That I want to sleep?”

  “No. That you can. We both can. He’s so reliable working the night shifts. He seems to like working late. I don’t mind saying I’m glad we don’t have to.”

  “Christ almighty, give the man a medal already. He manages to cover the nights for two whole weeks and he’s right up there with the Lord himself.”

  “So you’re saying you miss working 16 hours a day? You want to go back to that, do you?”

  “Don’t put words into my mouth. MacNeil was working the nights for us too, you forget that?”

  “MacNeil was drunk as often as not when he showed up for work. Perhaps you’re forgetting that.”

  Vasyl raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Enough, Lara. I don’t want to fight with you. Aleksei Nechayev is the best thing that ever happened to either one of us. I thank God every day that he walked into our saloon looking for work.”

  Lara couldn’t keep the grin out of her voice. “I’m glad you’re finally talking sense.”

  Vasyl chuckled and shook his head. He reached forward and put his palm on his wife’s belly. “We’ve got more important things to worry about than Aleksei Nechayev, yeah? How’s the little one?”

  “He’s fine, I’m sure.”

  “I think he’s a she.”

  “You want a little girl?”

  Vasyl leaned in and kissed his wife’s nose. “A little Lara? Why wouldn’t I? Now let’s stop fighting over that damn Russian and sleep. I want to be sure you get your rest.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Vasyl. I’m not the first woman to have a baby.”

  “No but I know you worry yourself, love. A baby at our age, it’s crazy, isn’t it?”

  Lara smiled and leaned forward to kiss Vasyl. “It is. But we’ll be fine. Good night, darling.”

  “Good night, love.”

  Vasyl rolled over onto his side and waited to hear the slow deep breathing that indicated his wife had fallen asleep. He was worried about her getting enough rest and, while she hated to be pampered, he had wanted to treat her like a princess since he’d first learned she was pregnant.

  It seemed impossible, after so many years of marriage and no children to show for it, but he was starting to believe that their dream of a family together was finally going to come true.

  Vasyl had met Lara while he was still working on the railroad himself. After coming to Alaska from Siberia, the early railroad construction was the natural choice for him to look for work. He’d found Lara working a waffle tent outside of Seward. She’d come to Alaska from Washington state after her parents and siblings had died of consumption and had used her extraordinary cooking skills to collaborate with another woman and set up a traveling restaurant.

  Lara was the best baker Vasyl had ever met and he’d never tasted anything as good as her waffles. He had lined up each morning with the rest of the camp workers for her delicious breakfast fare and hot coffee. One morning Vasyl had locked eyes with Lara as she handed him his plate, and he’d been in love with her ever since. After he’d confided in her about his plans to open his own saloon and stop working on the rails the two had pooled their money at the same time they’d exchanged marriage vows and opened the saloon together.

  While the saloon was hard work, Vasyl had never been happier than he was with Lara. And now they were finally going to complete their family and have a little one to love. Perhaps that was why he felt so uneasy about the Russian bartender who seemed to be the perfect employee. His anxiety over Lara and his unborn baby had left him paranoid.

  But in his heart, Vasyl knew it was more than that. Regardless of whether anyone else could see it, he knew there was something off about Aleksei Nechayev. The arrival of the Russian had dredged up memories that Vasyl had long buried. Not even Lara knew of the secrets Vasyl kept about his family back in the Ukraine. He’d put all that behind him when he’d taken the job working on the construction of the Trans-Siberian Railroad. But now Nechayev had brought it back to him again.

  Vasyl didn’t want his past to darken his present here in Alaska. But he also didn’t want to turn a blind eye to Nechayev. If push came to shove, he’d do whatever it took to protect his family and the life he’d worked so hard to build. He only hoped Lara would understand why he’d kept his secrets if it ever came to that.

  He turned onto his back and stared at the canvas
ceiling of his bedroom. He could hear the sounds of Nechayev manning the bar below him. The howls of drunken men as they regaled each other with tall tales of their various adventures before the rail. The flirtatious laughter of the whores as they set their sights on their tricks for the night.

  All seemed well in his beloved Turnagain Arm. Vasyl would make sure it stayed that way.

  ***

  Chapter 5

  Aleksei wiped down the bar with a wet towel while he watched Rebecca out of the corner of his eye. He had felt her sullen, accusing eyes on him all evening, just as he did each night he worked. He had hoped she would get over her obsession with him as more time passed, but it was clearly not to be.

  In truth, Aleksei had known from the second he’d walked into the Turnagain Arm saloon and the wretched woman had assaulted him with her incomprehensible ranting that he’d need to get rid of her. The saloon was turning out to be a better opportunity than he’d ever imagined, and there was no chance in hell that he would allow her to make things difficult for him. He would have preferred to ignore her, as he had no use for whores and didn’t see her as worthy prey, but Rebecca had left him no choice. At least she would be an easy kill.

  He smiled at the few remaining patrons in the bar and clapped his hands to get their attention.

  “Time to close up now, gentlemen.” He turned towards Rebecca and gave her his best smile. “And ladies too, of course.”

  “Please take your leave,” Aleksei said as he returned his attention towards the room at large. “Mr. and Mrs. Dzubenko will have breakfast for you bright and early in the morning.”

  Aleksei stood stock still and kept his smile tight as the drunken men stumbled from the saloon without an argument. It hadn’t taken Aleksei more than one night to convince them that arguing with him was not a good idea. Even drunk fools could understand the menace behind his glare when he chose to show it.

  “I wish you all good night,” he called out to the backs of the men.