by Jim Craig
Evening was approaching and with it the fog above us grew thicker and dark. The smell of the sea became more intense, and I caught whiffs of rotting seaweed and dead fish. The edge of the island appeared ahead along with the outline of a large dock. I'd seen it from the air several times but never from below. Tall concrete columns loomed above us supporting a wide pier. Thin clouds of mist wrapped themselves around the bases of the columns.
I looked in the direction of the airstrip figuring it to be less than a mile away. I knew it was on top of a small plateau just up from the bay and the fog had to be sitting right on its surface. I cringed at the thought of Willie flying so close to the water and looking for a way through the trees and rocks to get to the runway. From where I sat it looked impossible. I couldn’t see any way through. And Willie was moving at least forty miles an hour. I closed my eyes thankful it wasn’t me in the SuperCub. In the front or the backseat.
I’d been in that kind of situation a couple of times before. Made some bad decisions and had to fly into fog next to cliffs just to escape.
Tree top flying is fun on a clear day. But in fog it's sheer terror. At airplane speed, you could hit a ground antenna or a tall tree and be gone in a flash. When you’re that low, all you can do is pull up. You might miss the tree but then you’re in the clouds. And blind.
You should never be in that situation but sometimes stuff happens. Willie was another story. He pushed the limits time after time. He had brass.
My thoughts about Willie were interrupted when we moved past the high pier and Charlie turned into a marina behind it. His face shone with sweat, but his pace was still strong.
Greta had moved to sit on a side tube of the inflatable at the bow and was looking forward. A light breeze fluttered blond strands across her face. Her baseball cap was pulled down tight in front and her face was cast in shadow. Her collar was up and buttoned tightly around her neck. Her shoulders hunched toward her ears, and I could see her shiver once a while in the damp evening air.
The smell of land rushed my senses with relief. The shock of the gunfire and the dog hitting the water still hung in the back of my mind like a black cloak of dread but seeing Willie gave me hope.
Tambourine sat on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees staring at nothing. His chin was vibrating, and I could see his lips were blue and quivering. The coat he was wearing was too big for him and the sleeves hung over his hands. Every now and then his little shoulders shook and he hugged his knees tighter. But he never looked toward Greta or Charlie. He was in another world.
I couldn’t believe he was twelve years old. And something was seriously wrong. The rock and roll hero I'd seen before had left for the coast. His dead eyes made me think of caged dogs waiting in the pound for that final shot.
Watching him I felt a hard lump in my gut. It was like something was tugging below my chest making it hard to breathe.
Glancing up I saw we were approaching a dock. I was more than ready to get out of the rubber boat. Charlie hauled several more times on the oars and moved us into position to tie off against some rubber tires nailed into the wooden pier. There were several boats tied in slips around us. Fishing boats, working boats. Most of them beat up and in need of paint.
The marina was in a small cove, a divot in the side of the rocky tree covered island. Similar to the cove we’d left on Taroka, there was high ground above us with a couple of buildings and large white cylinder fuel tanks. The terrain to the right flattened and a small road led off into some trees in the direction of the airstrip.
I’d made several flights out here over the years. I’d even been down to the dock once or twice killing time while waiting for passengers to return. Concrete stairs with a heavy steel pipe hand rail climbed the hill beside us up to where fuel tanks sat in the foggy wet evening air. The railing was painted industrial gray and the bases of the stairs were a dull maroon. The embankment had been heavily reinforced to prevent mudslides in the wet climate.
I climbed out of the boat relieved to feel the solidness of the wooden dock under my feet. Charlie finished tying up the boat and started offloading the bags. I walked forward and looked down at Greta still sitting on the bow. She was closing up her makeup bag. Tambourine hadn’t changed position.
“We made it,” I said reaching down and taking one of the kid's. It felt like a twig inside the thick down coat. He didn’t resist as I pulled him up and stood him on the dock. He turned his back looking at the other boats and stepped away when I let him go. I turned back around and reached down for Greta.
She was looking up the hill and then stood up somewhat reluctantly it seemed, but after a moment’s hesitation she reached up to take my hand. As I pulled her upward I heard a voice call down from the top of the hill above the dock.
“Hey Johnny!”
I couldn’t look over just yet since I was concentrating on lifting Greta from the boat. When she was standing beside me she suddenly pulled off her hat with her free hand and shook out her blond styled hair like she was throwing off the gloom. Long bangs dropped in front of her eyes, and then she gave me a huge smile and with her arms flung wide fell toward me. I had to drop my pack and move fast to catch her and found myself holding her like one of those old fashioned dip moves on the dance floor. She put both arms around my neck.
“Oh, Johnny,” she swooned and laughed, raising the back of one hand to her cheek. I couldn’t help laughing in surprise and amazement at the lightness of her and the ease with which I was able to hold her and move her around. As I pulled her back up she put her arms around my waist and moved in close smiling with a radiance that took me by so much surprise I grinned even wider and started giggling like a loon.
“Oh, thank you, sir,” she crooned in a lilting exaggerated tone reaching for my face with both of her hands. Then she leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth. Stunned by the soft warm contact of her lips my eyes closed and I stood there paralyzed. The terror I’d felt in the boat was forgotten, erased like a windshield wiper clearing off the rain. I wanted to soak in the thrill of her in my arms, but I sensed Charlie watching and tried to break off the kiss.
Then I remembered the familiar sound of the voice in the distance and turned to look down the dock. It was Willie walking fast down the staircase in our direction. Greta turned her head to follow my gaze but she continued to hold me with her face close to mine. The scent of fresh perfume washed over me and I wondered for a second when she’d taken the time to do that. But my mind was whirling and my pants were feeling tight again. I almost didn’t notice the person walking down the dock behind Willie.
As I regained my balance and started to breath normally again, Greta shifted away slightly and looked toward Willie. I pulled away too, and my face felt hot. Willie was gaping at us.
Then I realized he wasn’t alone. The other person stepped around from behind him and stopped.
It was Brandy, Willie’s daughter, the heartache I’d been trying to forget for more than a year. She was staring at Greta and me, and as I watched her face I saw her eyes narrow and her lips press tightly together. She dropped her eyes then, turned and walked back toward the stairs. The dock lost its solid feeling and seemed to sway under my feet. Probably my imagination. Or maybe from being on the water for so long. Maybe. Maybe not.
Willie kept coming. “Johnny, where the hell have you been? Don’t you know you’ve got half the state looking for you?” He wasn’t smiling.
I pulled myself away from Greta and reached down to pick up my pack.
“Hey Willie. Man, I’m glad to see you," I said with a faked nonchalant chuckle. "It’s a long story, let me tell ya.”
“Why didn’t you call in again? Where’s your plane? Alaska state troopers have been calling me non-stop.”
“Calling you? What are they calling you for. They're supposed to be over here waiting for me.”
“What are you talking about? I'm talking about their dispatch office calling me. And then
two of them came by in a patrol car this morning looking for you or their officers. So where are they?” He took a step back, crossed his arms and frowned at me.
“You mean Rankin and Daniels? I have no idea where they are. I flew them over there to Taroka last night, so they could investigate a call they got. Remember?"
Willie stared back at me and I could see his mind struggling to recall our conversation the day before. He finally nodded.
"Well, they got into a gunfight with the guy they were after and I haven’t seen them since. Then the fog came in, and my sat phone died. The power went out at the lodge and … Christ, what a mess.”
I ran out of words then and looked behind Willie. Brandy was standing twenty feet away staring off into the distance with her arms wrapped across her chest.
"A gunfight? Where's the plane?" Willie asked me again shaking his head.
"Huh? Oh, it's grounded over on Taroka. There's no way to fly in this stuff," I said throwing my arm toward the sky.
"Then what are ya doing here?" he scowled at me.
I noticed then that Greta and Charlie had gathered their stuff and were moving past us down the dock toward Brandy. Charlie was weighed down with his backpack and the two large suitcases. Greta had her makeup bag tucked under one arm and was pulling Tambourine along by the back of his coat with her other hand. The Sponge Bob pack was laying on the pier by Willie's feet.
“Who are those people?” Willie asked looking more befuddled than ever.
“They’re the folks that run the lodge out there. Hang on a sec.”
I picked up the bright yellow pack and made sure it was closed. Then I hurried down the dock to catch up.
“Hello, Brandy,” I murmured as I walked by her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Johnny,” she said flatly with a nod. I maneuvered carefully around her on the narrow walkway.
“Hey, Charlie,” I called. He stopped and looked back at me, but Greta started up the stairs pulling Tambourine behind her. “What’s your plan? Where you going?”
“We know some construction guys up here,” he said jerking his head toward the village just beyond the hilltop. “We’re going to see them about those generator parts.” He turned and continued up the stairs.
“You seen your skiff?" I asked looking around the marina.
Charlie shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, then turned and started up the stairs behind the others. I watched them for a moment trying to think of something to say. Greta had reached the top of the stairs and I looked at her for some sign, but she didn't look back.
“What the hell’s going on, Johnny?" Willie's voice right behind me startled me.
I turned to answer him and then noticed the yellow back pack still in my hand. Swinging back around I saw the three of them just leaving the top of the staircase and out of view. I looked back and forth between them and the pack in my hand, my thoughts stumbling over each other like boulders in a mud slide.
"Hey, Johnny, you know Phil’s about to go ballistic? You didn’t tell him about this flight?” Willie's voice had climbed to a higher pitch jerking my attention back to him.
“Hell, it was late when I got the call. You remember. At the bar? I called them but their answering machine was on. I thought I’d be back before they even got the message. How was I supposed to know everything was going to get so screwed up?”
I wanted to ask him about Brandy, but she was too close to avoid hearing us, and I didn’t want to whisper to him like an idiot.
"After the troopers called me, I called Phil and told him about your flight," Willie said, "but he's hot."
"Yeah, well, what's the big deal? Shit happens." I'd had enough of hearing about my boss and his short fuse.
Willie threw out his hands in frustration. “Well, you ain’t heard the least of it. Your troopers haven’t made contact with their base since last night. Even the Coast Guard has been trying to get out here to find you guys.”
That threw me. I stared at Willie trying to understand.
“Well, they’ve got to be around here somewhere. Charlie said they took off in a skiff chasing the guy when the fog came in. How bad is it anyhow?”
“Aw, it’s thicker than snot. But only for about ten miles east of here. No one could get in here, so I gave it a try. It’s only bad right around here. I had to get kind of low to get underneath it.”
I looked toward the airport. It wasn’t in sight but I knew it was nearby on a flat spot up between two big hills.
“How the hell could you see to land up there?” I asked.
“That’s a damn good question,” Brandy chimed in. She'd walked up to join us and there was an edge in her voice I remembered all too well. “There was no visibility on that landing. Illegal as hell.”
Willie looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, it was pretty thick, but after I saw you guys in the boat I was able to find the dock. I knew the runway was just up that little trail over there, so I found it okay. No big deal. I used to fly stuff like that all the time when I lived out in Bristol Bay.”
I looked to where we was pointing. The trail he was talking about started at water’s edge, climbed the hillside and then disappeared in the fog.
“You’re nuts, man, but I’m really glad to see ya. As much as I hate to admit it,” I laughed and slapped his shoulder.
Willie cleared his throat. He wasn’t having it.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Johnny? You’re in deep shit and you’re laughing and playing around like it’s nothing? And now you’re chasing tail with some little blond bimbo?”
He waved his hand in Greta’s direction. His words hit me like a slap. My eyes snapped in that direction in alarm but all I saw was Brandy glaring at me and waiting for an answer.
My mouth fell open and I felt my eyes bugging out. For a moment I was speechless, my eyes flicking back and forth between Willie’s tight red face, Brandy’s questioning look and the empty stairway in the distance.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, it’s not like that at all. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Look, Johnny, you’re in trouble here. Phil was so pissed about you being gone he told the troopers that as far as he was concerned you’d stolen the airplane. So now they think you’re involved in the troopers being missing.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding me! Didn’t you tell them I filed my flight plan with you?”
“Yeah, I did, but they don’t understand that. Phil told them the company policy is to file a flight plan with the FAA.”
I slumped into silence. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A wave of sickness filled my belly. Finally I choked out a question.
“The troopers are missing, and they think I know where they are? I don’t have any freaking idea where they are.” I could hear the strain in my own voice.
“I tried to tell them you weren’t a problem, but they’re real worked up about their officers being missing. That just doesn’t happen.”
“It’s the fog, damn it.” I stamped back and forth on the dock, my mind reeling from what Willie was saying. “If it wasn’t so damn socked in around here, we’d be able to get some answers.”
"You never should have taken that flight. I told you that last night." Willie snapped.
"Yeah, right. Tell that to my bill collectors."
“Guys, guys,” Brandy broke in. “Settle down for a minute, will ya? We all just got here. Let’s go up to the village and ask around. If the troopers are here someone will know about it.”
I pulled my cap tighter and started for the stairs. I needed space from Willie's sharp tongue. “I can’t believe this crap. And Phil threw me to the wolves? What a freaking jerk!”
I pulled myself up the staircase deep in thought. The metal framework echoed faintly underneath us as we climbed. At the top my head started to clear a little and I struggled to get things sorted out. How could anybody think I had something to do with this mess? What had I ever done to deserve thi
s?
Reaching the top I took in a deep breath and paused to get the kinks out of my legs. Well, okay, so maybe I’d done a few things in my repo man career that were less than honorable. But hell, a repo man works in the shadows. That didn't mean I was flaky.
Besides I thought I’d overcome all that. Proved myself so to speak during my escapades last year. So, maybe not. Especially with the cops. But I suppose they weren't the type to think the best of people like me. Cops take a dim view of private people getting involved in law enforcement. Guess I couldn’t blame them for that. Pilots were the same way. Phil had a plaque hanging in his office that said, "If you ain't a pilot, you ain't shit." It's the same attitude.
Besides, everybody in Alaska looks a little flaky. Well, not everybody, but some of the nicest, most decent people I’d ever met looked like motorcycle gangsters or dumpster diving derelicts. I wasn't a bad person. Just a broke airplane driver trying to get by.
I didn’t like the thoughts I was having. And I didn’t like hearing that people were talking about me in connection to missing cops. It was making me question myself and wonder what I’d done wrong.
But I hadn’t done anything wrong, and now I was in a corner, getting defensive, under attack, feeling caged. I wasn’t used to scrutiny. Now all my decisions over the last two days were going to be questioned, people would be demanding explanations. If only the troopers would show up. Where the hell were those guys?
I looked toward the houses down the damp gravel road past the church with its blue green metal roof. Chenega village. It looked as deserted as ever. Greta and the others were nowhere in sight. It was getting late and the thick fog just above our heads made everything darker. I was getting a sick feeling inside. The hot and cold I'd been getting from that little blond had me reeling. What was that all about?
And then Brandy has to show up at the same time? What was she doing here? She was the last person on earth I ever expected to see again. She’d popped into my life last year when Willie’s airplane had been stolen. We couldn’t stand each other when we first met, but she was Willie’s daughter. I hadn't even known he had a daughter. Then she shows up for a surprise visit and finds her father in the hospital. I felt sorry for her and tried to help out. And she was pretty. And she was a LearJet pilot of all things.
So many times since then I wished I’d listened to myself. But I was an idiot and fell head over heels. Even Rainey had tried to warn me. One look at Brandy and she'd said, “Keep it zipped, Johnny.” Something subtle like that.
But I didn't listen and we got involved. I’d never felt that way about anybody. Damn it, why was everybody smarter than me about that stuff?
And then she left. Boom, zap, just like that. Turned on her heel and walked away. Left Alaska and was never heard from again. Not by me anyhow. Until now.
I rubbed my eyes and looked around. There was no one in sight. One of Greta's suitcases was leaning against a concrete post. I thought about leaving the yellow pack beside it but decided against it.
We started walking through the middle of an empty lot toward the church. Our feet scuffling on the gravel. I was leading the way and Willie and Brandy were close behind. Mist clung all around the steeple above us. Down the hill past the church a line of spruce trees separated us from the concrete ferry dock. We stopped to get our bearings in front of a red building, the community center. The one street through the village was still deserted. I saw a native woman come out of one of the houses nearby, but she didn’t look at us. A dog barked down the road.
Willie walked over to the community building to look at a notice posted on the wall. Brandy stood nearby expressionless.
I took a breath and screwed up my courage. “So, uh, Brandy, what are you doing here?” I finally asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d come and see my dad for a while.”
“Just passing through, eh?” I tried to keep my tone civil and neutral. Not too interested, nothing hostile. Joe Cool.
“Well, I had a charter from Cleveland up to Anchorage, so I combined it with a few days of vacation. Didn’t Dad mention it to you?”
“No, he didn’t mention it.”
“I suppose it was a little spontaneous. I just told him about it a few days ago,” she said matter of factly and walked over to a bulletin board hanging on the side of the building.
I turned and glared at Willie. He was climbing the stairs up to the main entrance of the community center. When he reached the top, he opened the door and went inside.
Damn guy, I swore under my breath. You’d think he could have told me that my old heart throb was coming to town. A little warning, you know? To give me time to hide. Somewhere so I could practice my ‘I don’t care’ face. But no, the sonofabitch hadn’t said a word.
Then again, Brandy was his daughter, and we’d never talked about I felt about her. He knew me too well already. We’d had a lot of bar conversations about women. Saying the stuff guys say to each other over beers when they’re alone. When the alcohol brings out all the bullshit and bravado.
I’d never been sure what he'd thought about us, Brandy and me. Then when she left I was in a bad way.
How do you share that with her father? I didn’t know how, so I kept it to myself. Except for Rainey. After we got past the 'I told you so' lecture.
I glanced up at the closed door at the top of the stairs. Willie was still inside. Rainey was reading something on the bulletin board.
I forced myself to take another deep breath. After a few moments I walked over and tried to break the uncomfortable silence between us.
“So, uh, well, uh, it’s, uh, it’s nice to see you again, Brandy,” I said with the calmest façade I could manage.
“Right,” she smirked at me. “Looks like you’re doing just fine, Johnny.”
“What do you mean?” I think my mouth fell open.
“Your little china doll back there? She seemed very … friendly, let’s say.”
“What? Her? That ain’t nothing,” I protested.
“You know you have lipstick all over your mouth?”
My hands flew to my face and I wiped frantically with my fingers and sleeves. Brandy gave me a sarcastic laugh and we turned to see Willie coming down the stairs.
“A guy inside told me they found a boat washed up on the beach,” he said. “Let’s go check it out.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN