She made a face. “What’s there to appreciate?”
Russ just stared. “You’re kidding, right?”
“As if I have anything to offer.”
“Cassie, you’ve got lots to offer! You’re a really special girl!”
She blinked in surprise. “Me?”
He smiled gently. “I’m surprised you don’t have a better sense of that, Cassie.”
“Oh, I get it. You mean because I can draw pretty well.”
“No. Your talent in art is only one small part of you. What matters even more is the kind of person you are. I mean, look at you. You’re bright and considerate and interested in other people.... And you’re attractive, too.”
Cassie snapped her head up. She saw that Russ had turned beet red. “Why, thanks, Russ.”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes down. “I’m surprised you don’t already know all this, Cassie,” he said, his voice thick with embarrassment.
Before she had a chance to reply, he’d jumped up off the log and headed toward the field of muskeg.
“Here, let me show you something,” he said, beckoning.
Cassie followed him, puzzled. He was pointing at tiny, odd-looking plants about the size of a quarter that dotted the moist green muskeg. Green rounded leaves, tinged with red, were covered with minuscule bristles, glistening in the sunlight.
She blinked. “What are those?”
“Examples of the genus Drosera.”
“Huh?”
“They’re called sundew plants.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“A pretty name for a plant with a real attitude.”
“What do you mean?”
“These guys are carnivorous. Or to be more accurate, insectivorous.”
“You mean they eat bugs?”
“Insects,” he corrected her gently.
Cassie’s eyes widened. “You mean like a Venus’s-flytrap?”
“Sort of. I’m afraid these guys aren’t as dramatic. They don’t close around their victims. They trap them with the sticky fluid on their tentacles, then absorb the nutrients. Here, watch this.” Crouching down, he searched the muskeg until he found a mosquito. He placed it on the tentacles.
Cassie watched in fascination as the mosquito struggled to free itself from the sappy threads that bound it to the top of the sundew’s leaf. “Wow! That’s incredible! A plant that eats animals!”
“Pretty cool, huh? How’d you like a garden full of these?” he joked.
She laughed. “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about bugs eating your flowers.” She grew serious as she examined the plant more closely. “They’re so pretty, though. No, not really pretty ... it’s more like they’re interesting looking.”
“Yet, there’s much more to them than you’d think. At first glance, they look like just any old plant. But once you know something about them, they’re fascinating.”
Russ plucked one out and handed it to Cassie. “Here you go. Why don’t you press one of these in a book? Maybe it’ll be a helpful reminder that there’s more to most things than meets the eye.”
Gratefully Cassie accepted the sundew plant.
Russ stood up and stretched. “Enough on the lessons nature can teach us. I’ve got a lot more territory to cover before the day is through. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off.”
“Okay, Russ. Catch you later.”
As Cassie watched him head off in another direction, looking very much at ease with himself as he slogged confidently through the muskeg with his pack on his back and his binoculars around his neck, her mind was clouded.
Why is it so easy to have fun with Russ, she thought, while being around Trip makes me feel clumsy and unattractive ... like the fat little girl I used to be the whole time I was growing up?
She shook her head thoughtfully. While she’d hoped coming out here into the woods would help put an end to some of her confusion, instead she was feeling more bewildered than ever.
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s amazing,” mused Laurel as she stared out the window of the Jeep in fascination. “Compared to Washington, D.C., Anchorage is a very small city. Yet after living at Wolf Lake for so long, being back in civilization is actually intimidating!”
“I know what you mean,” Russ agreed, glancing over from the driver’s seat. “It’s startling to see all these people crammed together in one place. At the lake, seeing even one person you don’t readily recognize would be a shock!”
Still, Laurel’s initial uneasiness over being in a city faded quickly, giving way to excitement over being in a new place. She and Russ had made a point of leaving the Kenai Peninsula early that morning, wanting to be certain there’d be time for sightseeing before their three o’clock presentation at the Department of Fish and Game.
The city of Anchorage was surprisingly small, roughly ten-square blocks. The buildings were low, with a frontier-town feeling to them. A few log cabins still stood in the downtown area, tucked between buildings of a much more recent vintage. There were a few familiar sights; she actually let out a little cry when they drove past Woolworth’s. But most of the businesses they passed had local roots.
When Russ pulled the Jeep into a parking space on 4th Avenue, one of Anchorage’s main streets, Laurel jumped out. She looked around, eagerly drinking in everything around her. This street was a center for tourists. In fact, right across the street was an authentic-looking log cabin with a big sign reading “Visitor Information Center” above the door. What was most striking about the small building was the roof. It was a sod roof, covered with thick green grass.
While shops selling postcards, T-shirts, and mugs dominated 4th Avenue, there were some specialty shops that Laurel and Russ found much more intriguing as they wandered along the sidewalk. Among them were galleries selling Alaskan handicrafts. Browsing in one of them, catching sight of a display of silver earrings, Laurel felt a twinge of sadness. The last time she’d been in such a store, when she was in Homer, she’d tried to make amends with Cassie. Yet the tension between them had remained high.
She tried to push all that aside and instead concentrate on enjoying herself. When she noticed some handmade Eskimo dolls, she spent a long time admiring them, finally deciding to indulge in one for herself.
After looking around the shops for a while, Laurel realized she was getting hungry. She was about to suggest to Russ that they start looking for a place to have lunch when a familiar sign caught her eye.
“Look!” she cried. “McDonald’s! I guess there really are things I miss about the civilized world!”
Eating in the familiar spot was a welcome break from roughing it. Still, Laurel was taken aback by how modern everything seemed. The bright lights, the Formica tables and plastic seat covers on the seats ... even the drinking straws, each one individually wrapped in paper. What a contrast it was to the simple, almost primitive life she’d gotten used to. She found herself missing the cabin and the lake. There she felt free. Here, she was beginning to feel closed in.
She and Russ sat down opposite each other at a table with a fake wood-grain finish. Thoughtfully munching her French fries, Laurel gazed out the window. She had a perfect view of one of the tourist shops right across the street. Its display window was crowded with T-shirts, mugs, and posters that were already starting to look familiar. Most of them, she noted, featured pictures of wildlife.
How ironic it is, she thought, that these garish items don’t even begin to capture the spectacular beauty of Alaska. It’s going to be so hard leaving all this behind, once it’s time to get back....
“Earth to Laurel.”
The sound of Russ’s voice snapped her out of her thoughtful state.
“Sorry.” She smiled at him apologetically. “I guess I wasn’t being very good company.”
“You’re always good company. I was just wondering what you were thinking about.”
“I was thinking about how magnificent Alaska is. And how those T-shirts and mugs do absolu
tely nothing to capture any of it.”
Biting into his Big Mac, he shrugged. “We’re lucky. A lot of people who come to Alaska never really get to experience it. They end up viewing it all through the windows of a tour bus.”
“It’s funny. Today, for the first time since we came, I feel like a tourist, instead of like someone who really belongs here.” Taking a sip of her milkshake, Laurel gestured toward the street. “Have you gotten used to being in a city yet?”
Russ laughed. “All my life, I’ve felt strange in cities. Anchorage is no exception.”
“I can’t get over the fact that this McDonald’s looks like every other McDonald’s in the country. Right now we could be anywhere.”
“But we’re not. We’re in Anchorage, Alaska. And we might as well use the couple of hours we’ve got before our talk to enjoy it.”
He stood up and reached for her hand. “Let’s paint this town red.”
For the next two hours, Laurel and Russ did their best to see all they could. At the Anchorage Museum of History and Art, they viewed life-size depictions of life in various parts of the state at different points in history. There was also an impressive display of paintings of Alaskan scenery, many done by well-known artists.
Next they did some more shopping at the 5th Avenue Mall. Laurel bought a beaded belt for her father and a leather purse for her mother. She suspected that both would go unused, but she didn’t want to go home empty-handed.
They would have liked to have seen more, but when Russ checked his watch they discovered the time had passed more quickly than they’d realized.
“We’d better get back to the car and head over to Fish and Game,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind showing up a little early.”
Laurel nodded. “Good idea. I could use the chance to go over our notes one more time before we get up in front of all those people to speak.”
Russ was silent as they walked toward the car. Laurel assumed he was thinking about the presentation. Yet when he finally spoke, his voice sounded odd.
“You know,” he said slowly, “I really had a good time today.”
“I did, too,” said Laurel. “It was great seeing Anchorage. Maybe playing tourist every once in a while isn’t so bad, after all,”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.” Russ hesitated. “I-I meant I had a good time spending the day ... with you.”
Slowly his meaning became clear. Laurel swallowed hard. “It was fun,” she said noncommittally.
“I-I’m really glad I’ve got to know you,” he went on in the same deliberate way. He kept his eyes down as they walked. “As far as I’m concerned, that turned out to be one of the best things about this whole trip.”
“I’m glad you and I became friends this summer, too,” she replied, choosing her words with great care. “I’ve learned a lot from you. And, well, having you as part of the research team has been really fun.”
“But there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, Laurel.” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I—
Gently Laurel placed her hand on his arm. “Russ?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t. We have to give our presentation in just a few minutes. Let’s concentrate on that.”
“But what about ... what about you and me?”
“I’m glad we’re friends, Russ. And I’m looking forward to you and me staying friends, even after we’ve gotten back to school.”
There was a long pause before he said, “Sure.” The thickness in his voice told her she’d gotten her point across.
“You’re a special guy, Russ,” she went on. “And one of these days, some really special girl’s going to recognize that.” Chuckling, she added, “If she’s smart, she’ll grab hold of you so fast you won’t know what hit you. And I predict the two of you will live happily ever after.”
Russ laughed self-consciously. “That’s funny. A few days ago I said practically the same words to Cassie.”
“Did you mean it?”
He thought for a few seconds before answering. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I did.”
Laurel cast him a meaningful look. “I mean it, too.”
* * * *
The front entrance of the Department of Fish and Game was a large, airy room that looked more like a museum than the lobby of an office building. Scattered around on the walls and in glass display cases were stuffed and mounted examples of Alaskan wildlife. In addition to birds and small mammals such as squirrels, bats, and lemmings, there was a sleek wolf, a Dall sheep with distinctive spiraling horns, and a huge wooly musk ox. What was most impressive, however, was the tremendous grizzly. Standing on his hind legs, his gigantic paws poised menacingly, he was easily eight or nine feet high.
“Imagine meeting this guy in the woods,” Laurel joked.
“Right now,” Russ replied after swallowing hard, “I think I’d prefer wrestling with him to giving this presentation.”
Laurel was about to say something consoling when a young woman in jeans and a faded blue-denim shirt came striding across the lobby toward them. She was wearing a welcoming smile.
“You must be Dr. Wells’s protégés,” she said. “We’ve been expecting you. I’m Dina Simons, a wildlife biologist.”
“I’m Laurel Adams, and this is Russ Corcoran.”
“Thanks for coming. We’re all anxious to hear about your project.”
“Uh, exactly how many people will be coming?” Russ asked anxiously.
“Only a dozen or so. Unfortunately, a lot of people weren’t able to come in from the field this afternoon. But those of us who are coming promised to take notes and tell them all about it.”
“Is Ben Seeger coming?” asked Laurel, lowering her backpack to the floor.
“He wouldn’t miss it. He and Ethan have been friends for years. Ben’s always interested in learning about what he and his students are up to. That’s especially true this year, since Wolf Lake is in his territory.
“Why don’t you come into my office?” Dina suggested. “You can leave your packs in there. Would you like a few minutes to look over your notes?”
A few minutes later, she led Laurel and Russ into a compact conference room. Seven or eight people sat around an oval-shaped table, waiting. Dina took a seat at its head.
“I’ll wait until everyone gets here before making introductions. In the meantime,” she added, gesturing toward the small table in the back corner of the room, “help yourselves to coffee.”
A few more people straggled in. Most of them chatted with each other, although the man sitting next to Russ and Laurel asked them a few questions about their trip up from the Kenai Peninsula and their impressions of Anchorage.
Finally, a man sitting in back said, “Since we’re all here, this might be a good time to get everyone’s feedback on the proposal for the new budget. Anybody had a chance to look over that memo yet?”
As the others discussed department business, Laurel and Russ sat with their heads together, reading through their notes one last time and reviewing who’d be talking about which topic.
At ten minutes after three, Dina glanced at her watch and frowned. “Everyone’s here except Ben. Where is he?”
“I saw him a few minutes ago,” someone volunteered. “I’m pretty sure he’s in the building.”
“I hope he remembered to put today’s meeting on his calendar.”
“Do you want me to see if I can track Mr. Seeger down?” Laurel offered. “That way, the rest of you can finish your discussion.”
“Would you?” Dina cast her a look of gratitude. “Start by checking his office. It’s right down the hall.”
Someone was already voicing a new opinion about the memo.
“I’ll come with you,” Russ whispered to Laurel. With a sheepish grin, he added, “My throat’s kind of dry. I could use a drink of water.”
“I think I noticed a drinking fountain around the corner,” said Laurel.
She and Russ headed down the corridor. Sure enough, there w
as a water fountain at the end. Right before it was a door labeled “Ben Seeger. Enforcement Coordinator, Southcentral Alaska and Kodiak Island.”
“I’ll look in here,” Laurel called to Russ.
She knocked on the open door, meanwhile glancing into the office. Finding it empty, she stepped inside. Mr. Seeger’s calendar lay open on his desk. Curious about whether or not he’d remembered to make a note of today’s meeting, she went over to the desk. Written underneath that day’s date was “3:00—Dr. Wells.” Yet as she stared at those simple words, she was suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness.
That handwriting. She’d seen it before. And the letters had been written with the same distinctive pen. Fine lines in jet black ink....
And then something else on the desk caught her eye. Half-hidden by a pile of pink telephone messages was a small notebook, about three by five inches. She hesitated, her mind racing. And then, without actually making a decision to do so, she picked it up.
Automatically the book fell open. Sticking out from the binding were the edges of a page that had been ripped out. The paper that remained formed a row of jagged, uneven triangles.
She recognized their pattern immediately.
“Everything okay in here?”
Laurel snapped her head up at the unexpected sound of Russ’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, watching her with a concerned look on his face.
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean ...” Laurel bit her lip. “I guess I’m not sure.”
Coming into the room, he asked, “What’s going on?”
She took a deep breath. “Either I’m running into one coincidence after another, or else I’ve found the guilty party.”
“Guilty?” Russ frowned. “Of what? What are you talking about?”
She held up the small book she’d been examining. “Look familiar?”
“Sure. I’ve seen that kind of notebook before. A lot of people use them for fieldwork. They’re called Write-in-the-Rain books, because they’re made of special paper that keeps ink from being smeared when the weather’s bad.”
“Take a closer look, Russ.” Laurel held it out for him to examine. “Now tell me if anything about this looks familiar.”
Alaska Adventure Page 17