Blue Ice Dying In The Rain

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Blue Ice Dying In The Rain Page 18

by Jim Craig

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  I went outside after a while, but no one was around. I wondered why Charlie had lied about there not being any more power for a phone call. Walking around behind the cabin I found the generator, but the fuel cap was off and an empty gas can lay on its side in the leaves.

  I listened for any sounds in the distance, but the fog muffled everything in its reach. Then I smelled smoke and walking toward the lodge I could hear voices coming from around the corner of the large log building.

  It was Greta’s voice, hard edged and clipped. “Get busy. I’m already packed.”

  “What are you talking about?” Charlie’s voice sounded stressed and strung out.

  “We need to leave and you know it. We talked about it before.” She spat the words at him like ice pellets in a blizzard.

  “Well, the pilot says the fog is still too thick to fly. Don’t you think we should wait a while?”

  “No, I don't think we should wait a while. We can take the inflatable. We need to get out of here now.” She didn’t add “you goddamn idiot” but I heard it clear as a bell.

  I was just around the corner from them, and I thought about hiding against the wall to listen for a while. Then I thought better of it and walked around the corner.

  They were standing over a fire pit. Flames and smoke were curling upward from a small pile of sticks and logs. Greta was using a long pole to push papers into the smoldering coals.

  They glanced up at me as I approached, but neither one said a word. Charlie’s body was slumped in defeat. He seemed shrunken and small beside Greta even though he was over a foot taller.

  Before he could say another word, she snapped, “Now, Charlie.” Without a word he turned and went inside but not before giving me a sideways glance. I wanted to ask him about fuel for the generator so I could charge the sat phone, but the tension in the air froze my tongue.

  I walked over to the fire pit and held out my hands for warmth. After a minute I glanced at Greta. She returned my look with an unspoken challenge. Her blue eyes reached for mine, but I looked away quickly before the spell could grab me again.

  I felt that sensation again of having just stumbled onto a theater set wondering how to play my part.

  “Damn fog,” I muttered, looking off into the distance.

  She moved toward me then until we stood side by side staring down together at the fire. The high heeled boots made her my same height, and I felt her softening. The sleeve of her black leather jacket brushed against my arm. She let out a sigh.

  “I have to get away from here, Johnny. I’ll die if I stay.”

  I glanced over at her in surprise but just for a second. I hadn't expected her to open up so quick.

  “Is it that bad?”

  “You have no idea. I’m just so messed up.”

  I looked at her then. Her chin was on her chest and with her eyes closed, she combed through her hair with trembling fingers. A thousand thoughts jammed together, fighting for release, but she held them back.

  I caught a crazy urge to take her in my arms. I took a nervous glance toward the lodge. There weren't any windows on the wall above us, but I fought off the impulse anyhow. Instead I reached over and touched her arm.

  “Where would you go?”

  “It doesn’t really matter. Just far away from this place. Away from Alaska. I’m done. I think I’m losing my mind.”

  "Huh, I know the feeling," I said looking up at the gloomy sky.

  “Seriously, Johnny, the fog can hang out here for days. Sometimes I think it’s going to cover me in gray and dissolve me like acid.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Not sure, just get away. Can you help me, Johnny?”

  Her words gripped me like a kitten's claws. Electric current ran down my spine.

  "But what about…?" I glanced again toward the lodge.

  "Forget him, Johnny. We're through. I've had enough."

  I swallowed hard and thought about it. Was she serious? Put her in the airplane and fly away? Then what? I pictured us in the plane, her curled up on the co-pilot seat smiling at me as we soared through blue sky over snow capped peaks. At the end of every long flight there was always a motel nearby. I pictured that little night gown again. Only this time it was laying on the motel floor…a puff of wet cold air hit the back of my neck and jerked my thoughts back to the present.

  "Aren't you taking a boat with Charlie?" I asked, reminding her and myself what I'd overheard.

  "I'd go with you right now, Johnny. Can we fly?"

  Oh, man. My knees felt weak, but one glance at the sky answered her question. I tugged my jacket a little tighter around my neck and shook my head. "Maybe tomorrow."

  She took hold of my arm. "Then I want you to come with us."

  Words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I couldn't say the things I was thinking, and nothing else wanted to come forward in their place. She seemed to realize I was struggling and she knew exactly how to proceed.

  She gripped my arm a little tighter. "Think about it, Johnny. Think about it," she whispered and leaned in closer until I could feel her hair brushing my cheek. I stared hard into the smoldering coals and tried to sort through my thoughts.

  Leave the island and find a way to call Phil? Yes, I needed to do that. But that meant leaving the airplane behind, and that didn't feel right at all. But then again sitting out here alone in the fog and out of touch didn’t make sense either. I'd probably have food and shelter but I'd be alone. Greta squeezed my arm again and warm waves swept down my back.

  I blinked hard trying to ignore her touch. I needed to reconnect with the troopers. That was certain. For all I knew I was their only way back to Seward, but after all this time it seemed like they'd moved on. Made other arrangements and left me to find my own way back.

  I thought about crossing the channel in an inflatable. I shuddered at the image. I was a fly guy, not a boat man.

  "What if Charlie went over by himself? He could get fuel and parts and come back and…"

  She didn't hesitate. "No, I need out now." She let go of my arm leaving a chill behind. I reached for her but she pulled away like she was headed for the lodge.

  The exasperation finally got the best of me. “Greta," I rasped, my voice rising. "Why? What’s going on? What are you doing out here anyway?”

  That stopped her. She turned slowly toward me and studied my face. Then she sat down on the log bench beside us. I hesitated to move, so she reached up and pulled me down next to her. She tossed more logs on the fire and we watched as the wood began to smoke. As it burst into flames, ash swirled up and around us, and the heat bathed us in an aromatic mixture of wood smoke and her perfume.

  “I’m losing it, Johnny. I don’t belong in this place. I never should have come up. All I can think about is how to get out."

  I put my arm around her then. She didn't seem to notice and kept talking.

  "I was stuck in a stupid job in California and when Charlie came along, I thought it was a way out. Things were good for a while, but not anymore. Charlie’s weird and the kid’s even weirder. Can you believe he’s twelve?”

  “What were you running from?”

  She recoiled slightly and looked at me strangely. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they say people who come to Alaska are all running from something."

  She looked at the burning coals. “Huh. "That’s what they say, huh?”

  I shrugged and waited.

  “Well, maybe so, I guess. I was broke and had been out of the modeling business for a while. I was too short and too old. And Charlie was so heart broken about his wife. We needed each other, ya know?”

  She looked at me and frowned. “I sound like a gold digger, don’t I?”

  “No, no, I don’t think that. I don’t know a thing about you guys. People find each other in all kinds of ways.”

  She sighed and smiled sadly. “Well, it was a mistake. Coming here just isn’t working out. And I can't handle anymore of Charlie.”


  She took a look around, then breathed in deeply letting it out with a sigh. “Man, I get so moody out here. I didn’t used to be like this. I’m never sure what I’m saying from one minute to the next. I don’t really know what happens to me. My brain just seems to have a mind of its own.”

  I chuckled at that, but her sadness made me bolder. I pulled her close. “Aw, you’ll be all right. You could be a model again. You're a freaking knockout.”

  She stiffened and pushed away. “No, you don’t get it. You have no idea what I’ve been through. Guys like you all think models have an easy life. You ought to try making a living under hot lights and a ton of makeup and hairspray, everyone from the producer to the pizza delivery guy hitting on you all day and all night.”

  The flash of anger surprised me, but I started to smile. Turning toward her I held out my arms with my palms up. “Yeah, well, I tried to get on the cover of GQ, but they turned me down. Can you believe that?” I cocked my head and gave her a pose.

  She was trying to hold a pout but glancing at me, she half choked, then laughed out loud. I laughed back.

  Then I made a mistake. Damn it, I hate it when I do that. I turned my head and looked at her straight on. She looked back, and that did it.

  Deep in the vivid pools of blue in her eyes I saw a beckoning hint of warmth. Like a candle burning on a tiny iceberg, floating in a glacial lake. I tried to look away but I couldn’t. All common sense drained away. Like bath tub water seeping past the plug. I was a teenaged peeping Tom secretly worshipping a naked wonder through a keyhole when all of a sudden my fantasy turns, makes eye contact and smiles. And just like a lonely teen I was lost and my jeans didn’t fit right anymore.

  I was incapable of speech and she knew it.

  "C'mon, Johnny," she said taking my hand. "Look at that," she nodded toward the fire pit smoldering at our feet. The red coals glimmered and winked, the heat popped and crackled. With a half grin and a sideways glance through lowered lids, she whispered, "Don't you wanna jump in with me?"

  Are you kidding me? I would have followed her off a cliff. We sat like that for a while listening to the hiss of the flames. A line from an old song came to me. Why must I be a teenager in love? I knew it made no sense, but I was telling myself to hell with making sense. Go for it. Cut loose, man. What have you got to lose?

  But at the same time the sane side of my shriveling brain kept hearing a faint but persistent alarm bell. Off in the distance but definitely there, it wouldn't be ignored.

  "So what if I do go with you? What happens then?"

  "Then we'll be free of this place." She took a deep breath and glanced back at the lodge. "And I can get away from him."

  The bell was still ringing but it was starting to fade. I had more questions, but before I could say anything I felt her finger press against my lips.

  "Shush, Johnny. Don't think so much." She had leaned in against me and her eyes were two inches from mine. I blinked and stared helplessly into those enormous blue orbs.

  "Then we'll be free to do whatever we want. We can fly away."

  The smell of her rushed in like the evening tide. Lilacs, wood smoke and lust drowned out the remaining weak tones of that bell. She removed her finger and replaced it with her lips. Softly at first, then hungry, we kissed. I moved my other arm around her and pulled her in, hanging on for dear life.

  The back of her hand dropped into my lap and our eyes flashed open sparkling wildly at the contact. We held the kiss and stared wide eyed at each other in thrilled surprise. Her hand rested there for a moment and then moved in a slow circle and climbed up my stomach and chest until she reached my neck. Pulling back she took my face in both hands. My eyes fell closed.

  We were both breathless, but she shook me gently and made me look at her. "You know you want this, Johnny," she whispered. "Just say yes."

  I nodded unable to speak. She kissed me again lightly tickling my lips with the tip of her tongue.

  "Wait here a while, then come to the lodge," she murmured. Then she stood up and left me there staring into the heat of the fire.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

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